Early days, just out of high school, a boyfriend, Earl, was in a fledgling band. Can’t even remember the name of the band but this fact was responsible for a most memorable evening. One of his band mates secured their first gig, at the town’s only gay bar, Dorothy’s. The guys in the band decided they wanted to bring their girlfriends, for “protection.” Hoo boy. Anyway, I invited a girlfriend of my own to have company while we hung out all evening. We got a couple of side eyes and I think there was speculation that she and I were a couple, but no. It was a whole different culture, new to me then. The regular patrons were a delight. There was the femmy doorman/bouncer who was ex-military and in a high pitched voice humbly and apologetically told us all the ways he could kill a guy with his bare hands. I remember two cute guys who were an obvious couple as they were dressed so similarly, each sporting bow ties, several levels more fashionable than anyone else in town at the time. In the back where we were shooting pool was a poster of a very stern looking Queen Victoria watching over us admonishing that “Even queens can get the clap.”
Isn’t there something about it being easier to get in the zone and channel the inner game after a drink? I’ve never played like this before or after but suddenly in the middle of a game I started running the table. Pocketing one ball after another I had sunk all my balls like a machine. People were watching and laughing and saying I was some sort of ringer. On the very last shot the eight ball and the white ball were both headed for the corner and it was just a matter of which would cause me to scratch first. Then, miracle of miracles, they met in the corner and kept each other from going down! My own mouth hung open as onlookers cheered.
It was essentially a rock band, but Earl had written a song, The Manure Song. It was sorta country, twangy, silly and the rhythm was really engaging. People were having fun. As the band started to play it people spontaneously joined hands and started dancing in a big circle. I even remember a small bit of the lyrics.
“Son, that there manure is all brown.
Get that there manure out of town.
Put it down, be civilized,
Before your hand gets fertilized,
Get that there manure out of tooooowwwnn.”.
What a night. Still makes me smile.