Joints

Started by supsalemgr, September 30, 2017, 04:20:44 AM

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supsalemgr

Since it is Saturday and a comparatively slow day on CPF I thought I would open a subject that might be entertaining. We are from different parts of the country and I am sure we have all had the opportunity to visit some joints in our ventures. Being from the South we have plenty of joints and I will open it up with a couple

Some years ago I was attending a golf event and later we went out for a beverage. It was in NE MS along the TN border (Buford Pusser country). This was a true joint in that they had a bandstand that did have chicken wire enclosing the bandstand to protect any band from thrown objects. That qualifies as a joint.

Another example was back in the 70's. I was training a guy from upstate NY and he was traveling with me for a week on his first trip south.  We were on the way from Jackson, MS to north LA and stopped at convenience store. In the south there is a blurred line as to what a joint and a convenience store are. We went in and there were a bunch of good ol' boys in there enjoying a adult beverage. The place had just become a joint because all the guys had open guns and there was bottle of bourbon on the soft drink cooler. Some places just don't have bars so the gathering place is the local convenience stores. Most sheriffs are pretty understanding. The guy from NY was freaked out.

I am looking forward to hearing from others and I have a few more.



"If you can't run with the big dawgs, stay on the porch!"

walkstall

In all my years I have not been to a "joint."  A lot of barn dancing in my younger years.  With a lot of square dancing off and on.  Moved into the big city and that was the end of all the fun.   City people just don't know how to have a good hoedown. 
A politician thinks of the next election. A statesman, of the next generation.- James Freeman Clarke

Always remember "Feelings Aren't Facts."

TboneAgain

When I was a young fellow, I was a VERY good pool player. We had our own 1,000-lb. professional quality table at home, and I just about wore that thing out. My mom's baby brother -- just a few years older than me -- fancied himself a pool hustler, but he couldn't shoot worth a damn. (Two different skill sets, trust me.) We decided to combine forces one night after I got off work, and we wound up in a joint called Rocky's Cafe, just a town over from where I lived near Dayton, Ohio.

Rocky's had been an old row house, and was deep and narrow. When we got there that Friday night, it was packed with good ol' boys busy spending their paychecks. (Good ol' boys ain't all in the South.) They'd had time to down a few, so our timing was good.

The table in Rocky's was atrocious, one of the worst pay tables I ever played on. But most aggravating of all, in this narrow space the table was crammed too close to the outside wall. About a third of the shots you wanted to make required the use of a special sawed-off cue stick, maybe 3 1/2 feet long, kept standing in the corner for such occasions.

As I recall, I was about $40 up on the drooling mound of drunken manhood I was fleecing when the bartender -- he looked a bit like Hulk Hogan without all the hair -- decided it was a good idea to check my ID..... He threw my seventeen-year-old ass out the front door and down the steps.
The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people. -- Tenth Amendment to the US Constitution

Government is not reason; it is not eloquent; IT IS FORCE. -- George Washington

Solar

Closest I ever came to a joint was when my dad and I were traveling back through the Midwest, can't remember the state even, just remember the brawl that ensued.
Dad wanted a beer, hot local slut was hitting on him, a couple of guys were getting a bit jealous, dad walked over to some big guy and said something, big guy picks up a bat, the place cleared, dad jumped in the car with a six pack and we headed down the road.

Apparently he he told the big guy that those guys were telling jokes about his tiny dick.
All of this took about a half hour to take place, from yelling Cali-Boy because of our license plate and other childish shit drunk guys stuck in some "Go nowhere hole" working a job that couldn't buy a tank of gas to escape on, let alone cheap beer.
Dad was a real affable guy, made friends everywhere we went, and he had no use for stupid, so he knew trouble was about to start, so he merely guided its path.
I remember watching one of those drunk morons running from the big ol boy with a bat, he was running with his beer upside down, steady as could be, but upside down.

After that, I never set foot in any local joint, not even here, where I live. I don't drink, and have zero patience for idiots and drunks.
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Rick

Back in my Air Force days, was in a place a bit outside of the base.

An argument started between a tall, skinny, tooth pick cowboy and a very, large, heavy set man. Bar tender told them to take it outside. So we all, took our beers and went out to watch.

They square off and totally unexceptionably, the cowboy pulls out a gun and shoots the the guy. He looks down, reaches behind, and picks up a shovel out of a pickup, about that time the tires grabbed asphalt and we were out of there.
I dream of the day a chicken can cross the road with out it's motives being questioned.

Solar

Quote from: Rick on September 30, 2017, 11:20:49 PM
Back in my Air Force days, was in a place a bit outside of the base.

An argument started between a tall, skinny, tooth pick cowboy and a very, large, heavy set man. Bar tender told them to take it outside. So we all, took our beers and went out to watch.

They square off and totally unexceptionably, the cowboy pulls out a gun and shoots the the guy. He looks down, reaches behind, and picks up a shovel out of a pickup, about that time the tires grabbed asphalt and we were out of there.
:lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:
That sounds about right.
I've worked with those Cowboy types, not all the gears are turning upstairs. Most times they're pretty affable, but when they get angry, let them go, even their best friends can't settle them down.
A lot of times, it's why they like ranching, no one bothers them, they spend weeks alone with the animals.
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supsalemgr

Here is another. I once went fishing down Bayou LaFourche south of NOLA and Baton Rouge. My host was business colleague who lived in this little shrimping town. We were finished fishing in the bayou and we went to this joint. Went in and my host went behind the bar, got us a couple beers and put money in the register. There was no one attending the joint and it was wide open. I asked my host about this and he said the owner just keeps it open. I asked what happens if some robs the place. He simply relied, "We kill them". It is called Cajon justice.
"If you can't run with the big dawgs, stay on the porch!"

walkstall

Quote from: supsalemgr on October 01, 2017, 05:11:16 AM
Here is another. I once went fishing down Bayou LaFourche south of NOLA and Baton Rouge. My host was business colleague who lived in this little shrimping town. We were finished fishing in the bayou and we went to this joint. Went in and my host went behind the bar, got us a couple beers and put money in the register. There was no one attending the joint and it was wide open. I asked my host about this and he said the owner just keeps it open. I asked what happens if some robs the place. He simply relied, "We kill them". It is called Cajon justice.

Sounds like a place I could like.  With a very lowest crime rates. 

My dads father was found swinging from a rope.  They say he beat his wife for the last time.  The 5 boys all had sold alibis.  Idaho has changed a lot in three generations.
A politician thinks of the next election. A statesman, of the next generation.- James Freeman Clarke

Always remember "Feelings Aren't Facts."

supsalemgr

Quote from: walkstall on October 01, 2017, 05:42:20 AM
Sounds like a place I could like.  With a very lowest crime rates. 

My dads father was found swinging from a rope.  They say he beat his wife for the last time.  The 5 boys all had sold alibis.  Idaho has changed a lot in three generations.

Very little crime in that part of LA. Just about everyone is armed. Hard working and hard playing Cajun folks. They know how to cook also.
"If you can't run with the big dawgs, stay on the porch!"

Hoofer

BM - before marriage.    Four of us were renting a really nice Towne House on the west side of Madison.  Two of us grew up with pool tables, and either of us could hold a Bar Room Table for a few rounds.  Unfortunately, "Brad", also a boxer, would make an entire evening out of it, not bar hopping, but ONE bar, from 8pm till closing, 2am.  On the south side, off the Beltline, there was a bar, we hit - Brad does his usual, 'Buy a case for the two of us" and we'd drink it till it was gone, and go home.

The Pizza cooker was down, so it was Beer on an empty stomach...  in a couple of hours, we were pretty plastered.   Propping each other up for shots, after arguing how to 'set up' the 2nd & 3rd shot...  we'd say, something stupid, "How'd you make that kinda shot sober!?  You shoot better with a six-pack in ya!"   By midnight we're almost through the case, and some guy walks by, "cops are on the way.." - the place was known for drug deals.   We're climbing into the car as the cops are pulling in (no lights), and start heading down the road.   Brad was pretty good driving drunk, but we got pulled over on the on-ramp, just a couple of blocks.  He begged me to switch seats, realizing he left his DL at home, was expired or something...   I wouldn't, we were both 3-sheets to the wind.

All that boxing... we figured, getting hit repeatedly in the head, he popped a Tic-Tac and walks a perfectly straight line, does the arms/head back balance thingy - the cop scratching his head, gives up without asking for his license, must have figured he had 'em dead to rights.  Brad thanks him and jumps back in the car - gives me that look with a smile, "I think I'm gonna pass out...", and does.  I drive home and leave him in the car.  The cold winter air eventually woke him up, shivering, he was pissed because I took the keys, so he couldn't start the car.

I've heard of "functional drunks", this guy Brad was the best of them.   But, it didn't take much to figure out, it was just a matter of time before his companions became collateral damage.  A couple of 20 year old "invincibles" ... we'd hit those places, play pool all night for a quarter, on the worst tables, and by 'luck' manage a clean exit before the fights or the cops showed up.  I don't think the Beer would have killed us - but the smoke in those watering holes was so thick, you could get addicted to cigarettes (or high) just by breathing.
All animals are created equal; Some just take longer to cook.   Survival is keeping an eye on those around you...

Solar

Out West, we call them Dive bars, or Dives, like jumping into a cesspool, most people avoid them because they tend to attract the local white trash, extremely ignorant/stupid unwashed and unwanted.
Where I live now used to have 5 Dives 30 years ago, now there are none. And no, these weren't bars where a band would play, no, they even took down the dart boards because the clientele were just too damn stupid, all they had was beer and straw on the floor, that way they didn't have to mop up the puke.

This may not be representative of Joints back East, but it is representative of Dives out West.
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