When a friend comes in to town for business you always try to hook up over dinner. Oftentimes it is the only time you have a chance to visit and catch up as any number of meetings, conference calls and deadlines can and do get in the way during the course of the business day. Even though it was a noticeable distance from the house when the firm is picking up the tab for a chance to reconnect the time and gas are the least I can do. This time, however, was unlike none I have ever experienced before. We went to a brand new eatery and fun/hen house by the name of "Redneck Heaven."
I'm explaining to my suddenly very concerned father on the phone while waiting for my friend to show up that it is not 30 miles from the nearest paved road surrounded by livestock and open fields with strange burn marks in the soil. Along the lines of "Hooters," "Twin Peaks," and "Bone Daddy's," "Redneck Heaven" is a variation on a tried and true theme - breasts (not always chicken), beer and burgers served up by barely legal beauties only this time instead of wearing orange they're in bikini halters and "Daisy Duke" shorts. The only thing not in line with the full costume were the flat boots each wore instead of the spiked heels their namesake inspiration ran through the countryside in on the "Dukes of Hazzard." The roof of the General Lee, Confederate flag and all, hangs from one of the walls while the famous "Dixie" horn sounds anytime anything cheeky happens. The one and only establishment as of this writing sits right next to the Vista Ridge Mall in Lewisville alongside heavily traveled Interstate I-35 just north of Dallas.
"Not too popular with the brothas?" was the first question I got upon returning to work the next day to tell my office mates all about it. I was in fact the only customer of color in the place but there were two "sistas" helping with the serving and causing their fair share of mayhem with the men folk one would most definitely expect to find in a place with a name like that. My buddy, in from South Carolina, don'tcha know, practically squealed with delight when he came in, rubbing his hands together and hunching his shoulders like the proverbial kid with the cookie jar.
As he took his seat our "Daisy" plopped in to the seat between us as if it was the most perfectly normal thing to do. Apparently it was because the table next to ours had no open seat so their "Daisy" simply sat in one of the highly appreciative men's laps and took their orders without missing a second thought. The food was standard fare with one exception. I was convinced by our "Daisy" to try the "Mississippi Mud Burger," an open faced half-pounder cooked to order on a slice of thick, buttered Texas Toast and drenched in onions and brown gravy.
Oh my. Frivolous flesh was never my thing but I'd go back for that burger on a regular basis! Good thing I don't drink, either, because one classic sleeveless bubba in the back downed the house special without breaking a sweat. The "Minnow Shot" is a shot of liquor with a live minnow in the glass. He chewed the hapless herring b-e-f-o-r-e downing the booze that would have otherwise put the flapper out of its misery. Shrieks of delight from the "Daisy Chain" while the horn blared "Dixie" for one and all to cheer the cable guy on.
All this on a Monday night during the football game. Friday they plan to have a "She-Devil/Angel" costume party. Our "Daisy" didn't know which to choose so I gave her an idea to think about: red boots, black "Daisy Dukes," a tail and topped with angel wings and a halo. Best of both worlds.