|Hey all, Soup here
again....gonna take a trip down memory lane here. Back to the Soup's college days
(1992-1997). Ok, so I have a bachelors degree and went to college for 5 years instead of
4, sue me....spent the whole first year playing pool in the student union and taking
stupid shit like english classes. Whaddya do?
Anyhow, I went to college at Bluefield State College in wild, wonderful (well not really)
Bluefield West Virginia. Yeah, I know that opens the doors to about 9 billion WV
jokes....but hell, I probably wrote about 8 billion of those myself. So where was I? Oh
yeah...well when me and my friends weren't in class, or riding around campus with me
yelling "I wanna pet the KITTY!!!" out the car window....we went and ate lunch a
lot. Lunch was our daily ritual...nothing was as esteemed as lunch dammit!!!
Lunch leads me to the topic for this whole damn column here, the most righteous of lunch
locals for us....COTTONS!!! Now Cottons was across the state line in Bluefield, VA (Yeah I
know, Blueflield WV and Bluefield VA? Right next to each other? Well they're hicks what
can I say?) First appearances would lead you to believe...what the f*ck is this place?
Cottons is in this brick building in a section of town that looks straight out of black
and white pictures from the 30's. The massive parking lot has room for maybe, oh, 5 cars
if you're lucky. Fortunately there was this dirt hill right behind the lot so you could
get up to a dozen cars in there (course whoever parked first was stuck until everybody
Inside, it looked like king of the redneck bars....there were about 4 booths, 8 or 9
stools at the bar, a pool table, a pinball machine, and a jukebox...that was it. The
jukebox had nothing on it except country music, nothing, nada, zip (of course this is how
I got the addiction to "Queen of my double wide trailer" by Sammy Kershaw, which
appears on my cd mix, check it out)
Basically the place was a general hell hole....the only thing you'd come in expecting to
get out of this place was either a skunky beer, or an ass kicking by one of the
semi-toothless rednecks that liked to sit at the bar...maybe even both if you're lucky.
I'd even go as far as to say this place might've made the bar in Desperado look good. But
there was one thing you never would've expected from this place and it was the reason we
came at least once a week.....the food F*CKING ROCKED!!!! I swear it was unreal, there was
no better cheeseburger or chicken sandwhich on the planet. I don't understand how it
happened, I just know it did.
The food brought in people you'd never expect to see in there. We'd be in there,
surrounded by redneck hillbilly types, then out of nowhere here would come in a couple
people in suits, obviously taking a lunch break from work in some law office or something
where you gotta dress up like that. Weird to say the least.
Then there was the guy that owned the place, Otis. He was this really old bald guy. Oh
yeah, and he was missing the end of one of his fingers. Yep, one was gone from about the
second knuckle on....whether this wound up in somebodies hamburger, or if it was in a
horrid hunting accident I dunno. None of us ever got the nerve to ask him...cuz Otis
looked like he'd just as soon kill you as speak to you. When he'd come to take your order
he wouldn't say anything...he'd just point at whoever he wanted to go ahead and order. It
was creepy, but damn the food was good.
There was also once where Otis and some other guy were in this side room next to the bar,
with the door wide open...and I'm pretty sure they were performing some kinda illegal arms
deal or something. Because quite frankly, I've never seen that many shotguns in one place
in my life....not even the hunting department in a Super Wal-Mart. That just added to the
creepiness...but by god, I can't think of a place I'd rather eat.
Stay tuned for more pointless stories folks.
Psycho "King of your double wide website" Soup
-Now that you've read something, he's written.
Wouldn't you like to find out more about Psycho Soup? Here you go.