Tuesday Night

A friend of mine was playing with his band at a local club, and I decided to go see him. It was a rotten, dark place to see a band or even to hang out and have a beer. Before it was a music venue, it had been a strip club. The owner, for some reason, converted it over when he thought he could make more money from original local music than with bared, jiggling flesh.

I think that the sound man was also the bouncer, which gives you an idea as to the quality of the sound.

The owner's wife, Jane, had been a stripper there. She was now its bartender. I couldn't imagine her as a dancer because there were few pleasant things about her (both personality and physique).

Anyway, it was unfortunate that no one showed up. There were no more than 8 people at the place. This didn't make Tommy, the club's owner, too happy. What made matters worse was that none of us must have been drinking fast enough. So Tommy started yelling and complaining to Jane about us over the loud, fuzzy sound system. While doing this, he pulled out a pistol from under his paunch and started waving it around above his head.

"If no one starts drinkin', Janey, I'm gonna start fuckin' blowin' holes through everything!" I wasn't finished with my beer but I promptly ordered another. Within 10 minutes I was gone.

Recently I heard rumors that Tommy turned the club into a smorgasbord-style diner. Or maybe it was an Italian restaurant. I can't remember which.