I grew up in West Nashville, home to LOTS of small “beer joints”, and my late best friend was a video game mechanic. MOST of these beer joints had jukeboxes in them which also serviced, so I heard LOTS of stories about what happened when he was in there, and storied relayed by the staff as well.
So, yeah, I REALLY know what goes/went on in those kinds of places.
Hell, we’re here. How about a story? My bud went in to fix a Space Invaders game in one of these beer joints. He brings the parts he needs in a small brown paper bag. He slides the game out, and pulls the back off when a drunk sitting at the bar asks what he’s doing.
“I have to replace all the invaders in here, you guys done shot up all the old ones”
Drunk nods, and goes back to his beer.
One of my customers name was Mel. Brown and Root superintendant,been around construction and construction hands all his life. He drank Budweiser and had the nickname of belchin Mel. One afternoon my late wife was sitting next to him at the bar when he let out a real loud belch. My late wife instinctively rose up on one cheek and let one rip.Old Mel turned as red as a beet, I never would have thought anything would have embarrassed this guy.