The chicken is still thawing, so Darco and I hit the town!
Setting: Old brick building turned into bar, restaurant, and pool hall (no smoking). Music? Country. Number of men wearing camo? Eight (including one flannel and a John Deere hat). Four televisions have boxing documentaries on, and two have “Realtree Monster Bucks” playing.
Most seats are taken, small talk all around. Tuesday night obviously equals taco Tuesday, and the local high school football team eats for free on Friday nights.
The only men in here without beards are well over 70 years of age, and hats? Make sure you’ve got yours on and it’s stained with sweat and dirt.
Who knew the town I’d move to was so similar to wear I grew up.