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John, Shelly and I drank beer. Helen had Blue Saphire rocks. Joanie had some whiskey thing with coke. Wifey had wine and then switched to a drink called the Sperm Donor.
There were stories. There was laughing. There was gossip. I liked my Elks Lodge beer.
It was so fun that I made out an application to be an Elk. My grandfather was an Elk. Grandmother was a member of the Elks Auxillary. Must be an okay thing to join.
The lodge has a swimming pool and Gracie will definitely want to swim in it every chance she gets. The drinks are cheap. They serve chicken dinners Thursday night. There are taco nights and cook your own steak night.
But the lodge is soooooo very white. 100% . Lots of pasty old white men in checkered pants, white shoes and belts.
When I'm initiated they'll no doubt ask me why I want to be an Elk. Well hell, I'll say. . . this place is tooooo white. We gots to get some color in here. And I mean that.
Little do they know as do few other people that Wifey's great grandmother was black. We be crossing that Lodge color line any day now albeit ever so small.
4 comments:
Would it surprise you to know that at one time, I was an Elk?
I am surprised.
Mooooooooo! Do they wear funny hats like the Shriners? I could only belong to an organization if they had funny hats.
What does it mean to be an Elk?
Isn't it the white boys club? A little klanish?
A little old and smokey?
Enlighten me please.
Laroo: I thought is was a bit too white, too. But that's Cowtown. Pasty white people make up 90% of the population. I have no clue what it means to be an Elk but I think they do a secret handshake. That I'm looking forward to. I think they wear horny hats that have a horn they blow . . . the horn is connected to a long tube that runs from the top of the hat into the mouth. Toot! TOOOOT!
As for smoking, there's no smoking in any where public in California so this place is smoke free . . . thank goodness.
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