I’m sorry new material is so long in coming. I’ve got my fall writing bug, and all my efforts are going into material for publication. The up side is that after a month or so that material if it’s not bought will be here.
Went out with an old rancher yesterday to check out some abandoned mines on his place. I knew his ranch was the longest owned by the same family in Montana, I didn’t know his great, great, great, great grandfather was a fur trapper here in 1790 (talk about local.) I also heard the story about Blind Jack and his two old maid, school teacher, sisters who homesteaded and grew wheat near Rock Creek. A story about the guy who pulled 1000 ounces of gold supposedly out of a hole no bigger than a truck. A guy by the name of Bell who lived on what is now part of the ranch and would bring all kinds of placer gold to town every so often but died suddenly with the secret of where he was getting it, and all kinds of other great stories.
The last time I was in a titty bar I still lived in Colorado (but it was in Montana) so to say it’s been a few years would be safe. Last night was my brother-in-laws bachelor party, in Vegas so yeah, there were titties…Big titties, little titties, pink titties, brown titties, black titties. Titties in my face, titties all over the place. (My apologies to Dr. Seuss) After paying our twenty dollar cover and settling on a pair of tables the girls were all over us like proverbial flies. I purchased my brother-in-law the mandatory lap dance before the limo we sent back for the wives, and wife-to-be delivered its’ drunken female payload.
I know I’m getting older but didn’t expect it to hinder my titty experience. Alas, with only a few exceptions, I was feeling too sorry for the girls to really enjoy the gyrations they were performing. I caught myself wondering whether these girls fathers’ knew what they were doing several times. I cringed as I watched them crawling around the stage for the money given to them, like roses performers once received in recognition of their work, but quite appropriately filthy, green and wilted.
Before anyone starts eyeballing my Man Card, I’ll move on to the few exceptions. The few girls who sincerely looked to be having a good time. The one with the perfect smile and the flexibility of a professional gymnast….damn……DAMN! Shit, now I forgot where I was going……..
A few differences between Montana and here were shockingly revealed to me when a dancer (all 90 pounds) jumped on my lap, grabbed my hand and placed it squarely on her perfect little ass. I guess there were similar shocking incidents upstairs with the wives too.) Both NV and MT allow alcohol to be served, however in Montana they take it all off, not just their tops like here, but there is absolutely no touching of the girls by the customer.
The funniest part of the night actually happened before The titty bar, we were all at Coyote Ugly, the rest of the guys were shy and hid near the bar while I inched my way forward eventually ending up near enough to the bar to have the water poured on the girls splash onto me also. However, the cruel hand of god chose this pinnacle of achievement as the best time to smite me with a full bladder. (The guys had been passing beers up to me.) It turned out that the bar didn’t waste space on restrooms and I had to go into the casino and down a floor to relive myself. On my way back this beautiful young lady in a skin tight short black dress, zoomed in on me more accurately and almost as fast as a Patriot Missile.(I credit my hat, which got mic time at Coyote Ugly and the Titty bar that night also.) She was grinding on me like a ……something that grinds a lot. When she finally figured out I wasn’t going to be doing whatever she wanted, she kissed my cheek and put a bunch of Mardi Gras beads around my neck. The guys were a little surprised when I returned from the restroom with the beads and lipstick on my cheek.
All fun aside, the most important part of the night is that I found out that my soon to be sister-in-law is a great lady and a lot of fun. Welcome to the family Major Fun. (Yes, she is Military)
I stole this title from a forum I belong to, but it really fits my experiences today. I’ve gotten use to not being able to get things like auto parts quickly and reliably, such as the water pump I need for my wife’s truck. Luckily I was never the type of person who required Prosciutto, sushi or Thai food on a short basis. Things like that (the water pump, not the Prosciutto) I pick up on one of our town trips we take about every month. However, today during my fall plow checks I found out I need about a quart of 90W gear oil for The Kaiser’s transmission, and I also needed four quick links to lengthen a pair of chains for my wife’s truck. Our local auto mechanic was out, the only convenience station doesn’t carry it, nor does the grocery store. I will check the hardware store but I’m not holding my breath, they don’t even have the right size quick link, I know this because the quick links I bought yesterday, for the Dodge were the only ones anywhere near that size.
Just another aspect anyone considering moving to a very small town should consider.