Finish Line Bar

Think double wide trailer, side by side with a wooden staircase at the entrance. Out back is a beer garden, all concrete without plants. I wonder if the trailers were a residence at one time. One trailer houses the bar, décor rich with bright neon lights and two to three pub tables with chairs. Music is from an Internet jukebox. The men’s restroom is a disaster, if you have ever been in an older establishment in the country you can relate when I describe an older urinal filled with the raunchy stench of urine. From the looks of the piping, I hit the flush with a kick of the foot. Clientele consists of locals mostly, many of which I’d seen at the Milwaukee Burger company, earlier that evening. It was my idea to check out this place, so my broil was in the «I told you so» mode. Since it was a Saturday night, more of the people were in their 20’s. One cannot forget the lady bartending. Reminisce to the 80’s, tight dress with the mini skirt bottom, French manicured hands and hot pink pedicure. Complete with 80’s Vidal Sassoon big brown hair and an added bonus of «you want me» stripper platforms. She’s a babe ready to adorn your baddest of bad ass Trans Am’s. With the likes of the people in the bar, I don’t get why she dressed up that much. I don’t think anyone tipped as well as we; a couple city boys visiting the area. I was lucky enough to meet a crazy White bag lady in that bar. She threw her hands onto my chest and asked if I was a crazed psycho killer with tears in her eyes. For fucks sake I thought. Of all the bars I’d been to on this night, this was the one that had the least amount of gawking and staring. I want the bartender not your old, nasty ass. Hoping someone in the bar would come to my rescue… … … … …. . … … … …. . … nope.
The second trailer has got electronic poker machines which I believe they pay out on, an old ill taken care of pool table and a thoroughly used electronic darts machine. An old tube TV in one corner, good luck with getting it to work properly. The room stunk of bile and toilet. I’m thinking this trailer was at one time on ground level and lived through a bunch of floods. It’s got that stink of poo-​poo floatie water. Say if you were feeling the effects of the heavy cheese from dinner, one could pass gas freely and not worry about taking blame for said fart. The fans inside this part of the bar are run down and ancient; I’d say circa late 70s maybe early 80s. Everything has got a film of funk across it.
Local seductively fascinating podunkerous bar with cheap beer and a hot bartender. (Yes, I am being partially sarcastic.)