The Petition… Episode 8 of The Barroom Chronicles

Did you ever have one of those days when you scratch your head and say: “What the F#$%?” In my part of the world, these days are, well, an everyday occasion. But sometimes I’m so amazed that I end up scratching both my head and my butt. This past Saturday was such a day, a perfect storm of silliness and awe that makes you think: wait a minute, is this really happening?

Another such day was an afternoon a little over three years ago when two  elderly ladies came into our fair tavern.  Along with their brooches, one was wearing a smile, the other was wearing a snarl. I was on the phone growling at a vendor and didn’t recognize the impending good granny, bad granny routine.

We the old people...

Little did I know they were the messengers for a sinister organization – The Senior Citizens of our Town. “We have a petition to deliver to you,” the bad granny snapped as she handed me the piece of paper.

I took it from her and read the first line: “We the Senior citizens who’ve lived in our little town for 50 (and up) years find your sign “Welcome pimps and hos” offensive. ((Actually the sign read: Pimp and Ho Party, Saturday Feb. 14) Yes, that’s right, it is our way to celebrate Valentine’s Day.)

Like some sort of sixth sense, or maybe it’s my built in bullshit detector , whatever it was, I sensed displeasure with their message. They weren’t visiting  to proclaim my greatness or draft me as their candidate for mayor.

 ”Listen, I’m in a bad mood, I don’t have time for your nonsense,” I said.

Good Granny, Bad Granny

“Read it!” The bad granny snapped.

“Stick it,” I replied.  I can be such an anal aperture. “And while you’re at it, buy something or leave!”   This always works on the non-paying, especially if I’ve never seen the person before.  Listen, being a customer has its priveledges – mostly throwing me a line or two of grief. This was different, I had to draw a line in the sand against the Granny Gestapo.

 ”You really should read it, it’s kinda funny,” the good granny chirped.

“No drinky, no stayie,” I barked. (I really didn’t say that, but it sounds good.)

Their task complete, the Grannies walked out the door with their heads held high. It wasn’t till a couple hours later that I cooled my jets enough to peruse their masterpiece. And I thought we were offensive, we’re completely bush league in comparison.  This is what their note read:

“We the Senior citizens who’ve lived in our little town for 50 (and up)
years find your sign “Welcome pimps and hos” offensive. I believe that
parents of young children will also find it offensive. However if you
really think that calling people denigrating names is the way to appeal
to potential customers you are neglecting whole classes of people…

You have your Spicks and Micks and Dagos and Wops,

Who are they calling a Kraut?!

Your Hunkies and Junkies and “pigs” (for cops)
There are Bucks and Squaws, slant-eyes and Frogs
Your Rednecks and Polacks and female Dogs
You’ve got Chinks and Finks and Pansies and Dykes
Niggers and Limeys and don’t forget the Kikes,
There are Greasers and Japs and the German Kraut,
Just so you didnt leave anyone out…

Why not have an all-inclusive sign “Welcome Scum of the earth, this is your
home away from home” Better yet how about a really family- friendly
sign. “Welcome friends and neighbors!”"

 

There was almost fifty signatures signed at the bottom of the page. My wife and I got such a kick out of it, we promptly posted the petition with the names on the bar’s Myspace page.  Remember Myspace? It makes me feel as old as the Gestapo.

 

I did take the senior’s advice.  Two new banners went up. One proclaiming a Kikes and Dykes party, and another for  party that gained traction for a couple of years. The Scum Ball.

 

Less than two months later, the town was in uproar about the name change to the 1000 Bra Bar…   See Episode 2  of The Barroom Chronicles. http://johnzunski.wordpress.com/2012/02/27/the-prank-that-keeps-on-giving-the-barroom-chronicles-pt-2/

 

 

Not our bride and groom, but you get the picture.

Oh, I almost forgot about what happened this Saturday.  In addition to our Spread your Wings Party, we had another wedding at the bar.  That’s strange enough, but it’s not terribly unusal, it’s the third. What makes this one odd was not that the mother of the bride was summoned from the golf course, she didn’t know her daughter was getting married.  Apparently, forty-eight hours early, neither did the bride.  The story goes the happy couple met a few days prior to the wedding.  Move over Vegas!

Some People’s Weddings

“You want me to do what?” I remember asking my ‘rent-a-daughter.’

“Marry us,” she replied. After assuring me that  going online,  clicking the mouse a few times and giving a credit card number legally allows one to officiate, how could I refuse?  I’m always up for an adventure, little did I know what an adventure it would be.

That first wedding is by the far the largest, maybe the craziest, but by no means the most bizarre.  On St. Patty’s day, 2007, there was  one-hundred ninety sets of staring eyes, a good chunk of them old friends and acquaintances  enjoying the irony of an anti-marriage advocate dressed in a collar performing nuptials. That ceremony was laced with so many jokes I started to believe I was a stand up comic, or maybe that was the Irish whiskey and water I had stashed in the lectern.

To stand before a couple on their big day and utter sacred words – I’m not talking religious, I’m talking sacred – there’s a difference.  To feel that energy, that zoom, it’s amazing – it’s an incredible privilege.

Since, I’ve done fifteen weddings, some of them pedestrian, others – memorable.  Sometimes I’ll go almost a year between ceremonies, once I did two within five days.  Most are outdoors, one was in a haunted Bed and Breakfast. That in mind… lets get to the stories.

The Most Bizarre -  Halloween Night, Sportman’s Bar  – the groom enters in a coffin, the bride marches to the Undertaker theme!  In the ceremony love was replaced with misery and the reading was from Alice Cooper’s Welcome to My Nightmare.  By midnight, the groom was running naked up and down Railroad Ave.  Fun times!

Most Challenging – Tarkio Lodge, incredible setting, the cliffs of the Alberton Gorge as a backdrop. Ceremony fairly orchestrated – an opera singer belted out two songs.  Less than an hour before the ceremony, I learn the couple decides against the vows being written in second person.  Panicked,  I scribble third person vows onto a tablet and shoehorn them into the ceremony.

Most Humbling – On a November night, days before Thanksgiving I do a six PM ceremony in the bar. It was memorable because it was a cold night and the bride was barefoot.

Most Intimidating -  Having to learn a few words of Piegan and performing them in front of Piegan scholars.  I’m sure they had low expectations, but, man, I’ve always idolized the Blackfoot.  Maistoinna Standing Bear in my book Shangri-La Trailer Park is Blackfoot.

These are the memorable weddings, but, none of them compare to the look on people’s faces, the bride included, than last weekend’s.  It was the first wedding I presided that had a skit built into the ceremony, and the first to have a surprise for the bride.

It began as an old-west wedding, the bride, dressed as a saloon girl being drug against her will to the alter to marry a tycoon.  The groom rides up on a horse and fires his gun into the air.  He shoots the tycoon and his hired gunfighter and forces the preacher – me – to do a wedding.

Everyone settles into their seats and the real ceremony gets underway. Everything is fine a dandy until I ask: ” if anyone believes this couple should not enter into matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

The brides mother stands and shouts: “I object!”

The bride’s jaw hits the ground and the groom reaches for his six-shooter and pops a cap into the mother-in-law. (Disclaimer – actual  bullets were not used and no mother-in-law’s were harmed in the process.) The surprise was total and the look on people’s faces was priceless. Total Shock and Awe!

The best part, it was the bride’s mother’s idea. Well, not to get shot, but to throw in an objection.  Who says weddings have to be stressful?

(Once I get my grubby hands on the video, I will post it to the blog. )

Oh yeah, since I began officiating weddings, I did something I swore I’d never do, I got married!

PS:   I have a fairly good track record. To my knowledge, there have been two divorces, not a bad batting average.