NO COMPETITION
I was drunk at a chili cook off
on the east side of town
Kinky Friedman was there
looking old and gray
and not looking much like
a governor
of Texas.
It was about 1:in the afternoon
when I showed up and I really needed a beer
more than something to eat
besides
the people were lined up around the chili pots
like dying swine
so I asked the cute Asian bartender
for a Pabst
I smiled and called her darlin’
and she didn’t care
(a bold cross tattooed to her chest).
it didn’t take long before
Jack was buying me whiskey
and we ran inside to get out of the sun
Jack still had his sunglasses on
the cute bartender moved inside
to where we were
she knew we were dirty fools
with our money
that made her happy, I think
but she never smiled
even with the dears and darlins
and Jack’s usual one-liners.
I got some left over chili
and talked to some musicians
who were drunker than I am.
some girls were singing honky tonk
onstage. Jack said,
let’s go up thar and sing!
and so we rushed the stage
with cigarettes dangling from our mouths
and sang and groaned into the microphone
closest to the fiddle player.
we didn’t know all the words but
it didn’t matter.
we knew just enough to get by
and not get our asses kicked for being
foolish, drunk, and all around disagreeable.
I was drunk at a chili cook off
on the east side of town
Kinky Friedman was there
looking old and gray
and not looking much like
a governor
of Texas.
It was about 1:in the afternoon
when I showed up and I really needed a beer
more than something to eat
besides
the people were lined up around the chili pots
like dying swine
so I asked the cute Asian bartender
for a Pabst
I smiled and called her darlin’
and she didn’t care
(a bold cross tattooed to her chest).
it didn’t take long before
Jack was buying me whiskey
and we ran inside to get out of the sun
Jack still had his sunglasses on
the cute bartender moved inside
to where we were
she knew we were dirty fools
with our money
that made her happy, I think
but she never smiled
even with the dears and darlins
and Jack’s usual one-liners.
I got some left over chili
and talked to some musicians
who were drunker than I am.
some girls were singing honky tonk
onstage. Jack said,
let’s go up thar and sing!
and so we rushed the stage
with cigarettes dangling from our mouths
and sang and groaned into the microphone
closest to the fiddle player.
we didn’t know all the words but
it didn’t matter.
we knew just enough to get by
and not get our asses kicked for being
foolish, drunk, and all around disagreeable.