On The Road With Pat and Marty
One Tank Trip
Now that I’m commuting from LA to Detroit, I thought I’d ask my buddy Pat Sajak
to come on a visit and help me scope out a house to buy.
I’m tired of staying in hotels, even though LadyBomb picks up the tab.
It took a lot of work on my part, but as soon as I mentioned second-hand Super Bowl XL
junk, he relented.
We arrived at Metro on Friday at 6 and checked into our room in the RenCen before heading to Greek Town via the PeopleMover to eat and gamble. Pat was up two-and-a-half playing blackjack and I was a little over breaking even at the craps table by the time we both got bored and wished they had some real entertainment at these Detroit casinos.
You know, like those old time Vegas acts: Sinatra
, Sonny & Cher
, Tom Jones
I had a brochure of "One Tank Trips" in Michigan that pointed us towards my home town, Jackson.
"Oh, yeah," I said. "It’s the birthplace of the Republican Party!"
We cruised down I-94 in our rented Ford Focus
, exited at Elm St. and turned south, towards downtown.
"Jackson in a nutshell," I said as I pointed out landmarks, most of which were party stores.
We pulled up to Keeder’s Show Bar
, at the corner of Elm and Page Ave., and parked the car.
Just what I like...no valet, no doorman, no COVER CHARGE. Pat and I strolled in to the sounds of Nelly
on the jukebox. Paradise
was dancing and I was damned happy to have found this place.
It was a dive, but a glorious one. I ordered a Patron
"We only have 1800
," she said with a gurgle.
"That’ll do," I said, "and a Corona with lime."
"No Corona," she wheezed.
"Labatt?" I asked.
"Yes, cough, hack!"
Pat ordered the same. We toasted our luck as Entyce
approached and gave us each the $1 dance, easily the best bargain in America. I can’t speak for Pat, but I stiffened and relaxed at the same time.
I slipped two bucks between her boobs and an extra down below.
I looked around and Pat was making his own home movie over in the back...
Girls...tattoos...smelly bathroom...$10...hand- crafted antique wooden bar...EXPENSIVE...girls dancing off the jukebox...PRICELESS...
Six rounds later we were fighting the traffic, the wind and night blindness as I steered our dumb asses back to the hotel.
A.) That’s sounds pretty lowlife to me, bro.
B.) Don’t drink and drive, man.
C.) Hi Mom! Can you bail me out?##