There's this little bar just south of town square and between the two bridges that is literally surrounded with kudzu during the growing season. If it weren't for triple strength Roundup and sheer determination by the owners not to disappear under the heap, the place would be a goner in one summer. There's an apartment upstairs that has been rented by various and sundry patrons over the years...those who sleep during the day and work at night while the crowd is gettin' rowdy.
Most afternoons, except for ladies day on Thursday, the place is an after work watering hole for all sorts of guys running the gamut from mattress maker and farmer to lawyer and vet. Most of 'em go home for supper with their wives at a halfway decent time. The single ones tend to hang around a bit longer, but they also head home way before curfew. When that crowd leaves, they are replaced by a younger bunch who have had their grub, gotten kids situated and need to get out and chill with wifey just to clear their heads. The owner is a biker, so there's lots of chrome and noise and charity runs. His co-owner spouse ....y'all wouldn't believe how she can sing! They had the karaoke set-up for years traveling from party to party for Bev to knock everybody's socks off and put on their dancing shoes. After they bought the kudzu bar, the weekends turned into singin' and dancing heaven.
Now, me and a few of my girlfriends had been long time customers at this fine establishment but with ladies day becoming a regular thing, we decided one day after a few beers that we would be Kweens of the Kudzu that creeps right up next to the building. We were regular as clockwork showing up for our meetings with big plans to establish a charter for our newly formed not-so-secret society. Our common bond is a love of good times, friends and being a redneck if the situation requires such. Oh, we can fit right in with the upper crust if THAT is absolutely necessary, but it ain't near as much fun as being a kween.
Weeks and months passed and the charter never got talked about, much less written. We celebrate birthdays and Thursdays and sometimes even Mondays. Think "I Love This Bar" by Toby Keith. Add a little AC/DC and Creed plus UT Vols football with a dash of Nascar and a sprinkle of Harley Davidson and you've got the general idea. We've changed jobs and men and names but by golly, we've always got each others' backs when crunch time comes.
Which brings me to the latest adventure of the kweens. Back in the day, there was a front bar separated by a half -wall with spindles to the ceiling from the back part with the tables and booths and such. People got to dancing on that main bar so much that the owners were afraid somebody would fall off into the kudzu or something, so they built a little dance floor up right behind that dividing wall surrounded by brass railings so folks could dance their little hearts out and be safe. Oh boy. The other night we were out there celebrating a kween birthday and as the beer flowed and us girls got rowdy, we decided to dance a little. Now, mind you, these guys back at the bar are just totally amused at the old gals having such fun and eggin' it on by supplying dollar beer. Yeah, that's right. We're cheap dates on Thursday. The rest of the time, y'all better come through with the nice stuff because southern ladies demand respect.
So, we're playing the jukebox and having a big old time when birthday girl decides to bust a move up on the little stage that used to have those spindles runnin' to the ceiling. I was about to enter the ladies room when I saw her strike a pose and do a dang backflip off of that stage OVER the half-wall ACROSS a table and two chairs and smack her dainty little noggin right on the concrete floor. I wasn't quite sure that I had seen what I just saw so I just stood there like in slow-mo waiting for her to reappear. Pretty soon she did, with the help of several gallant gentlemen. The bartender fetched ice in a big old baggie for her the back of her head.
Now, y'all might think that was the end of the party but not so. By this time we were laughing so hard tears were streamin'. Birthday girl was quite embarrassed for about five minutes but then she got over herself and laughed with us. We talked and laughed and danced some more and then we had to go home because tomorrow was a work day. Dang..I hate it when that happens!
Sometimes? It's good to be kween.