Future Yelper

The best bar I’ve ever been to.
I’m with a group of fanatics that drove fourteen hours for a 2 day concert. Tonight we had one goal, let’s do dinner and chill. We were in the car 4ever, and tomorrow will be just as long rocking out. On Google maps I find where the locals eat. It’s a dive bar called the Almond tree.
As the 6 of us enter it is very apparent that we are the youngest patrons this joint has seen in quite a while. Not only that, but way under dressed. There are 76 year old ladies wearing bling for days, netted tops showing off cosmetic surgery that would make men half their age take a second look. One younger gal (64ish) is in a flashy red number with a dark shawl with sparkly bedazzled bits. This place is weird.
The server saw us push a couple tables together and stopped us.
“You guys ought to connect the tables lengthwise to encourage conversation”
Well I already know I’m going to like this joint. Our group is looking around, tentativly. It’s Friday, they have prime rib I’m even more sold. My compatriots are starting to see how unique this establishment is. Stacey asks what’s on tap?
“Either PBR, or Pabst Blue Ribbon and if it’s too cold, we got a microwave in back.”
Did I mention I already love this place?
We ordered a round of pbrs and the fella took our dinner orders. As we were chatting the place kept filling up. With more “elder” patrons. Some looked as though walking was a struggle, others were flaunting golden angel wing sheer blouses. Bottom line is: we knew something magic was in the air.
Another round of pbrs
Dr. Smooth the DJ in a slick pleather vest, pimp hat, and 4 button vest unbuttoned shows up to his karaoke night. I assume karaoke means we get to sing. WRONG!
Old boy rocks his guitar and keyboard and dives right into”Boot Scootin Boogie” the dance floor fills up in the first 4 bars. It’s a sea of septuagenarians doing the electric slide to this one man band and I am amazed.
I turn to the table and see everyone else is as shocked as me. Did we just walk into the movie Cocoon?
We watch in awe. There’s a man who appears to be in his nineties cutting up a rug. Another dude is obviously the ladies man in this joint. He’s sporting a bright red wrangler button up, crisp new Kirkland Blue jeans and a stellar tan felt cowboy hat. He dances with any gal he wants.
As a group of thirty somethings for the most part, we are simultaneously snickering and commenting that we want our golden years to look like this.
I’m into it, off the barstool and clapping on getting A better feel for the energy of this place. A gal comes by and stops at our table. Comments something about my buddies Seahawks shirt (we’re in niner territory), and establishes the small talk report. She’s 63 and loves that we are having such a great time. Obviously sees the ring on my finger cause she’s really interested in where my wife is. This is too funny. She wanders off somewhere else and I get a bit of rousing from the table.
A slow song comes on, in my 4 PBR voice I encourage the married couples at the table to get out there. My PBR voice wasn’t quiet enough to grab the attention of an elderly woman walking by the bar. She turns to our table to describe what a slow dance is like with all the ear hair barely masking a decade of wax build up, creaky joints holding on to keep the bodies upright during motion, and false teeth popping out at any given moment. “Can you even imagine teeth landing in your hair?” She asks. “But it’s great for other things” she adds. I had to find my jaw on the floor. Please tell me I’m not the only one who heard that. Quickly her friends came over to apologize, she’s getting pretty crazy tonight. “It’s all okay, she just knows how to get another gin and tonic” I say to the friends and the bartender.
One of the ladies at our table comes back from the bathroom. “This place has the softest toilet paper ever! They really know their clientele.”
I dance some sort of line dance terribly, a few others of our group get out there too. We order another round of beers. Miss 63 niner fan comes around a few times to chat. She says tomorrow night is when this place really gets going. She’s been known to flash the crowd. I was later informed by the group that it was blatant flirting. But I’m clueless, all in all, I hope to find this kind of club again in a few years. For now though I’ll just dance like there’s no tomorrow.
Oh by the way, the dinner was amazing too.

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