So here is the whole story of Joe and my adventure to Strawberry, AZ (the name of the town really ties the story together). The story didn’t actually take place in Strawberry, it was really in Payson, but Strawberry sounds much better and the town consisted of everything one could ever want – a cheap log cabin hotel, 3 bars and random antique shops containing trinkets from Fostoria, OH. Anyway, the purpose of the journey to Payson was for Joe (crazy teacher guy) and me to go hiking – which turned out to have some amazing natural wonders. We got there on a Saturday night so we looked around for the cheapest, dirtiest hotel possible (the Budget Inn) and then went on a search for something to do. Payson has nothing in it except fast food places, hotels, a Wal-Mart…..and yes, a casino. We decided on the casino because it had a free shuttle that would pick us up at our hotel and drive us back later. After chugging down a couple Hurricanes we purchased from the cross-eyed girl at the gas station we rode our shuttle to the casino. This casino was the smallest casino I have ever seen. It consisted of one large room full of slot machines, a bar and a room for black jack and hold ‘em. We immediately went to the bar and ordered Smirnoff vodka drinks for $2.50 each! Joe, of course, took a double vodka on the rocks. We walked around the slot room and noticed that at least 1 out of 5 people were lugging around oxygen tanks and breathing through respirators. We even so one old lady pull her respirator out so she could smoke a cigarette….I told Joe, “That’s perseverance at its finest.” The goal of the night was to win our money for the $60 hotel back. Joe started aimlessly throwing nickels into a slot machine and lost a couple bucks. He then decided to up the anti and start shoving 20’s into the dollar slot machines. I left him for a while to check if the casino had anything more to offer, but of course I came up empty. When I returned to Joe, I found him counting his winnings which totaled up to about $30. I was dumbfounded and told him to stop playing and keep the money since he had achieved his goal of paying for his share of the room. I put my name in on the Hold ‘em table and waited….and waited…..Then, as if magically, I found myself really, really drunk when my name was finally called. I have only played online so I didn’t know the rules. I was throwing all my chips in the pot and trying to go all-in but I guess you can’t in this casino game. I’m sure everyone was amused by my antics. That and every time the waitress was in site I was screaming at her for another drink – except I could never remember what I was drinking (even though I was drinking screwdrivers all night). Either these old guys at the table were really bad or I was really lucky cuz I ended up killing them all. I won a couple small hands and then one really big hand. As I fell over the table to hoard all of my chips over to myself, I looked at the dealer and said, “Heyyy buddddy, I’lm outt.” He helped me rack the chips which ended up being a little over $100 – I think. There were a few chips left over so I gave them to the dealer. I’m not sure how many were there but he seemed pretty pleased with it. He gave me a wad of cash and I staggered my way back to my home (the bar). I found Joe sitting there talking to some old lounge singer about music and places to hike so I got up and went to the restroom. When I came back the bartender gave me my credit card back and told me to get out. According to me, I was kicked out for dominating everyone in my card game. But Joe claims there were security guards and police watching me stagger my way to the bathroom and decided that I was no longer welcome in the casino. This was a defining moment in my life as I have never been kicked out of my first bar/casino. In the van on the way back to the hotel I remembered it was Mrs. Sarah Kolks’ birthday so I had all the old people take out their respirators and sing “happy birthday.”
And if that night wasn’t great enough, breakfast at a random diner the next day topped it. But before I get into this story, let me tell you what I found before me when I opened my eyes after a long, drunken sleep. I heard singing and jumping in the room as I regained consciousness. I slowly opened my eyes, and saw Joe standing over me on my bed wearing skin tight navy long john pants and shirt. He was standing with his hands on his hips and legs spread with his chest perched out as if proud of his appearance. He then started singing at the top of his lungs, “Dancerrrrrrr, Prancerrrrrrr, Underpantserrrrrrrr!”
He then jumped off of my bed and began prancing around the room singing this ridiculous song of his. This song and dance routine entertained me for at least 10 minutes until his mood changed and he complained that we wouldn’t be able to hike because I had slept too long. Oh, and for the rest of the day Joe talked in third person and referred to himself as “Dancer Prancer Underpantser.” To this day, he still responds to the name and will prance around gaily if you call him it.
Now, I will continue on with the remainder of the story. Words cannot explain what Joe and I saw in this diner the next day but I will try my best. As soon as we walked in to this place, we knew we had hit the jackpot. It was overly crowded as any good diner would be on a Sunday morning so we sat at the bar area. Our waitress was mean and terrible – just as we had hoped. We ordered our food and then took a glance at the creatures around us. We discovered that we were in a different world in this place. There were cowboys – the handle bar moustaches, hats, button-up shirts, tight pants (I saw some chaps too) and boots kind of cowboys (the real thing). There were also a couple “bruisers” in there – the gigantic, bald-headed guys that always seem to be in a bad mood and wanting to fight something. The women all had feathered hair with a perm and bangs, cowboy shirts, tight pants, and cowboy boots. These descriptions described everyone in the diner….not just one or two. The fellars next to us just happened to be talking about artificially inseminating cows. We got our food relatively fast but ended up staying in this place for well over an hour so that we could absorb just what the hell was going on. I am sure that if we were to ever return to this diner these people wouldn’t be there. This was just one of those cases where you step out of the realm of reality and enter a completely bizarre world.
I hope this story entertained you as much as it did us, having lived through it.
