Shootin Deer in tha Hood

My friend Robbie and I went out last night to the local Country & Western gay bar that has disco boots dangling, turning, and sparkling over the dance floor for 2-4-1 cocktails.

We had just had dinner after dropping Seth off at the airport, so it was just 2/3s of the “Trio of Terror”, out on the town.

Robbie and I swaggered into the bar, got a drink, and did a quick and uneventful “love lap”, before settling on the “vulture roost”, which was one of our favorite spots (you get to see everyone that walks in the door—CAAaaw Caaaaw).

We perused the room with uninterested eyes, which eventually rested on the video game machines that were located in the corner. We noticed that they had been changed out for new ones. We looked at each other as we saw one in particular…

DEER HUNTER 2000 (it is a country bar after all)

Robbie quickly went to the bar to get change as we bee lined for the game. We figured if there wasn’t anyone in the bar to track, hunt, and throw over our shoulders, we might as well hunt poor, defenseless, digital mammals…

I have to admit, it isn’t the most humane game out there, but we couldn’t resist being twisted and enjoying ourselves like children opening presents on Christmas Morn. Our giggles quickly escalated, as we painted a picture of two hick hunters in the woods shootin them varmints to provide viddles for the family. We were almost crying as we took it one step further by adding a queer flavor to the comments…

“You kin call that thar one Boy George, cuz he tumbled for ya,” as the digital buck flipped forward from the shot to its “vitals”.

“GoOOOooolly, looky thar, you just bagged a bigg-un. 197 lbs, we autta send over a venison roast to the Dawsons down by tha holler.”

These types of comments caused us to laugh so hard that Robbie almost blew beer through his nose, and we were slapping knees, holding stomachs, and generally making asses out of ourselves.

Of course, our hilarity led to people wanting to know what was going on…so they had to walk by slyly to see what was making us cut up.

To make Robbie laugh more (okay, so I’m a ham), between “huntin trips” I had to pose with the gun like one of Charlie’s Angels…I’m gay-wadda ya want???

So these guys walk up (again…slyly), and they were either appalled (okay, for good reason, I had selected a composite bow), or “quietly” whispered into their friend’s ear as they walked by, “Oooo my gawd, how butch” (which, I then couldn’t resist pulling a Lucy Liu pose from Angels Full Throttle---just to mess with them and their preconceptions of butch).

After dumping $4 into the machine, we decided to head out (our gay reps were taking it in the tight one), and go to our next stop of the night.

On the way, I turn to Robbie and say, “That (the bar) was pretty good tonight…I scored about 10 young bucks.”

If it were only that easy…

deutschmarc