Recent Articles - The Flower Raj Articles
1: the light rain had been falling
the light rain had been falling all day and now the road in front of the entrance to the spur bar was a sea of mud. it was here that more and more of the regulars were finding themselves forced to park their pick-ups. one thing a cowboy hates is wet boots,because they don't dry overnite. in the morning they are cold and clammy. all of this was because someone had written a best selling book about montana, which mentioned the spur as one of last authenic cowboy bars in the west.
now the parking was full of well waxed bmws, mercedes sls and volvo convertibles. their owner's were like some invasive species, that fell to earth, who owned 3 or 4 homes and liked to dress in expensive cowboy clothing to mingle with the locals. it was said, that one of the alligator belt with silver belt buckle was worth more,that they made in 4 months.
things were changing at the spur, the boone and crockett stuff deer head had lost in reverend place on the wall to a plasma tv with the sport channel on. absolute vodka was on the shelves and being served. it was getting harder and harder to just get a bottle of beer.
one nite, things came to a head. mabel, the owner, while helping out the waitresses ,was told by the regular group of this outsiders, who had the irritating habit of table knocking with their college rings , when they wanted another round of drinks. she asked who he was ? he told her, he was a new york lawyer and the biggest landowner in the county and if she didn't hop to with the drink order. he would have her shut down. later after closing, she made a decision.
the next day, she hung a "closed for renovation" sign on the door and called all the regulars for a meeting, many grievances were aired from wet boots to having to put up with arrogant ass-holes. someone mentioned, that the reasons for the outsiders coming here was it was an opportunity for them to wear their cowboy clothing and to rub elbow with regular folks. we were the reason for them being here. maybe, if we changed our cloths and had a dress code, they would disappear. we could go on ebay and get outfitted fairly cheaply. so a dress code was voted in and ebay search.
so when the spur reopened, a sign was posted "dress code enforced" "no jeans or cowboy boots" some of the turned away away people looked in the window, the deer head was back in it's and the plasma tv gone. there seemed to be a preppy looking crowd in blue buttoned down shirts drinking from the bottle. not the kinda of place, that a cowboy outfit would fit.
they fired up their cars and went in search for another watering hole. later one was found out by the freeway called the wagon wheel. which was good for them,because the parking lot was paved and it was frequented by truckers. who dressed just like cowboys, except for the chrome chain on their wallet. these nomads of the road, didn't mind them buying them drinks or their mindless chatter, because they knew that tomorrow or the next day they would be gone on the road.
back at the spur, the vodka bottles were gathering dust and there was parking in the lot. the regulars voted to keep the dress code. they liked the softness of oxford cloth and it breathed. the cole haan loafers were nice on their feet and fun to dance in, now that women were starting to show up.
they owned their good fortune to a change of clothes. it was the blue buttoned down shirt that saved the spur.
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