If there is any business that will survive and thrive in a small town, it's a bar. Every town here, no matter how small, has one. There is a place about 12 miles northwest of us that on Thursday nights turns into a bustling place in the middle of a tiny town. The town is Haverhill and it's no more than 2 blocks wide. There is a grain co-op, a church that has closed, a post office the size of my bedroom, an old historic blacksmith shop that gives tours in the summer and an old bar. I LOVE this bar. It's a very old building and the bar is about the size of a large one level apartment with old rickety wood floors, skulls and shotguns hanging on the walls, and Toby Keith playing on the jukebox. The lights are dim with neon glowing beer signs hanging all around.
We meet friends from work there sometimes on Thursday nights because it's pizza night. Granted it takes forever to get your pizza because the kitchen only has 2 ovens and most people pile in at the same time and fight for one of the 12 tables. We have so much fun there. The conversations of people at tables surrounding us are hilarious in small towns. "My hogs got out... damn things"..... "I deserve a beer, been fixin' fences all day"..... "Did you read in the paper they may make it illegal to mow yer lawn on Tuesdays?".
Bahahahaahah! The acoustics are terrible and with so many people (many drunk) in one small space all yelling at each other to carry on a conversation, we come home deaf and hoarse. But I love being there. Drinks are only a dollar with unlimited refills. Lets just say I am pumped with sugar by the time I get home. We are usually the only ones who don't drink (except my best bud from work) so we get a kick out of watching everyone else get plastered. Oh the things they say and do make me realize even more of 'why' I don't drink. Ha ha!
It's the type of place you just don't find in the city, and another reason why I love living here.
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