By Gregg Howard
“This is the rudest bar ever!” Donny said. “Why’s it called ‘The Friendship Inn’ when it’s anything but? Worst name ever!”
“These wildcatters and pipeline workers don’t give a damn about the name,” Dub said. “It’s the only bar for forty miles! It would be packed no matter what.”
“What about truth in advertising?” Donny snorted.
When I came home to visit, I heard that Donny had won the lottery and bought the old place, so I drove by to take a look. And now the sign says ‘Peckerwoods’ in bright pink neon, and the parking lot is still packed full.
Funny stuff.
Sounds like my kind of place, Gregg!