Saturday, May 5, 2018

Ode to an Old Honky-Tonk

  

   It was a pretty good yard sale.
  The Lady of the House found all sorts of old crap priced cheap and there were a bunch of old CDs for me to go through at 50 cents apiece.
  I finished up going through the music and looked up to see where The Lady of the House had wandered off to.
  I saw her in a back room of the house looking over a bunch of kitchenware.  I headed her way.
  That room didn’t have much light.  I stood there for a bit.  As my eyes got used to the dimness I saw that there were all kinds of coffee mugs on shelves all around the room.  One shelf had a handmade sign that read “CUPS 25¢/6 FOR $1.”
  I was looking for something unique, something different.
  There were matched cups, odd cups, cups from restaurants and fast food joints.  There amongst all the different kinds of cups was a plastic cup shaped like a tall daiquiri glass.  There was writing on it that brought back a bunch of memories….
BOOT SCOOTERS
COME SCOOT YOUR BOOTS ON OUR DANCE FLOOR
#1 FUN SPOT
ROSWELL, NM
  I have been to Boot Scooters once upon a time, long ago. 
  I always remembered the place for a couple of reasons.  One was, if I have the story right, my buddy Wayne K…legendary Pecos Valley radio personality…came up with the idea for the name for the club.
  The other reason I remember it was because I made an ass of myself there about 28 years ago.
  But one thing at a time.
  As I remember there were a few places to “get yer drink on” in Roswell back when I lived there at beginning of the 1990’s, working at a country radio station.  There was a bar on North Main where the hometown country folks went, another one in the big motel near New Mexico Military Institute where all kinds of folks went and another one down near The K-Mart that catered to folks in town who fancied themselves as someone else besides themselves.  Oh yeah, there was that one at the steakhouse and another at another motel not far from there.
  I don’t know the whole story but part of my buddy Wayne’s job at the radio station was to call on accounts around town for radio advertising.  It was during his rounds he caught wind of the folks who were firing up a new bar in town.
  It was 1990 and the western swing band Asleep At The Wheel had come out with a new album with a song “Boot Scootin’ Boogie,” which no doubt brought in a chunk of grocery money for Texas songwriter Ronnie Dunn.  He and a fellow songwriter named Brooks would get together not long after that as the duo Brooks & Dunn.  Their version of the song a couple of years later would be a big country hit.
  Anyway, the way I heard it, taking a cue from the song Wayne suggested “Boot Scooters” as the name for the new club.  The owners mulled it over and went with it.
  I probably wouln’t’ve made it over to Boot Scooters if Wayne hadn’ta insisted I come on to the south side of Roswell and try out the new club.
  I had been going to the bar at the motel and having beers.  Hell, it was just a short walk or bicycle ride from my groovy bachelor pad on the north side of town. 
  The more I hung around the motel bar the more I got to learning more about Roswell.  Over time I was finding folks recognized me from being “that guy on the country radio in the morning.”  Folks were buying me beers and I was waking up at 5 the next morning still feeling the effects of the free cold ones.
  Then there was that one night that some drunk lady with a German accent came right up to me at the bar while I was enjoying my beer…
  “I know who you are,” she said getting right in my face.  “You don’t know who I am.”
  “No ma’am, I don’t know who you are,” I said.  “I just know you have a store downtown.”
  “Well,” she said.  “You better not talk about me on the radio.  If you do my husband will squash you like a bug.”
  I don’t know what I did to irritate the sensibilities of this woman but somehow I had.
  I seemed to have that ability with the fairer sex at bars.
  After all, there was that time that I was challenged to my first and only bar fight…by a woman.  I was at a nightclub in Fort Myers, Florida…just minding my own business…picking out some tunes on the jukebox when “BAM” an empty bottle exploded next to me.
  “YOU BETTER PLAY SOME GOOD SHIT,” came a woman’s voice.
  I turned around to see a woman whose leg was in a cast, her crutches next to her as she sat at a table.
  “I’M TIRED OF LISTENING TO BAD SHIT,” she yelled.
  I saw the bartender pick up the phone.  A few minutes later she got a free ride in a police car.  I reckon the bartender was ticked off that he’d have to clean up her mess.
  I took the angry German woman as a sign that it was time to take Wayne up on his invitation to come get my drink on at Boot Scooters.
  I think I can even remember the month and day I first went to Boot Scooters…Saturday, June 27, 1990.  Now let me type that date into the internet and see if I got it right……..nope….June 27, 1990 was a Wednesday…so it was Saturday, June 23, 1990.
  My girlfriend at the time was off on some business conference somewhere so I didn’t have anything to do BUT get my drink on.
  So my buddy Wayne came on by my groovy bachelor pad and picked me up…we were off to Boot Scooters.
  We walked in the bar and it was everything I expected a place like Boot Scooters to be:  A DJ booth, DJ playing good country music with a beat, a big wooden dance floor with folks line dancing and lots of waitresses serving lots of refreshing adult libations.
  There were Mexican beers to be drunk and I drank ‘em…I don’t know how many.  After a while a couple of things happened:  Every time our waitress walked by I yelled “WOOOOO-HOOOOO!”  I don’t know exactly why I yelled “WOOOOO-HOOOOO!” every time our waitress walked by, I just did.  The other thing was I started dancing with varied and sundry women in the club who were in a varied and sundry state of attractiveness…and dancing barefoot too….barefoot on Boot Scooters wooden dance floor.
  I regaled Wayne with stories, jokes were told, assessments on the attractiveness of the available women were expounded.  
  And then before you could say “Jack Robinson” me and my bare feet were off to the dance floor to dance with Raynelle who worked at the farm supply store.
  Then I was back in my chair at our table, drinking more beer and here came our waitress again.
  “WOOOOOOOOOO-HOOOOOOOO!” I yelled.
  Oops!
  Waitress stopped and turned.
  It was only then that I noticed she had a nametag:  Sue Ellen
  “Okay asshole,” she yelled, dropping her tray and pointing at me, “that’s your last woo-hoo tonight.”
  “I…” I started to speak but Wayne put his hand on my shoulder.
  “We’re just leaving,” said Wayne.
  “We are?” I turned and looked at Wayne and he was giving me a raised eyebrow face that said it was time to go.”
  I put my boots back on, grabbed my hat and Wayne and I headed outside.
  “Bro,” said Wayne as we walked out into the parking lot, “She was about to have your ass thrown out.  You don’t want to be on their shit list, that ain’t good for your reputation around town.”
  “Well,” I said looking at Wayne,  “You know what my ol’ buddy Wayne would say, ‘OH WELL.’”
  As the years went on I would say that a lot, “You know what my old buddy Wayne would say.”  When I moved away from Roswell people thought Wayne was an imaginary friend.
  Anyway, I woke up later that morning with an odd condition…the whole world was sideways.  I couldn’t figure out how that worked.  I looked in the mirror and I wasn’t holding my head sideways so I don’t know what that was, I didn’t know how I achieved that, forgot how many beers I drank…but it was weird.
  I decided to go back to bed until I didn’t see things sideways.
  The phone rang.
  And rang.
  And rang.
  I didn’t answer it.

E P I L O G U E
  Yeah, that was a long time ago.
  I was a different person then.
  The Lady of the House tells me it was a good thing we didn’t meet in 1990…
  “For one thing I wouldn’t’ve lived in Roswell,” she said, “For another you were a COUNTRY DJ and for another I believe you were a bit obnoxious.”
  I posted a picture of the Boot Scooters cup on The Facebook. 
  Later I got a message from Rhonda in west Texas.  We used to work together at the Roswell radio station.  She wrote that Boot Scooters was closed, closed since a summer storm blew the roof off a few years ago.

  Rhonda sent me a picture she took of the place as she drove by.

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