Chronic behavior
In response to Ms. Woodard’s comments in last week’s letter titled, “Gone to Pot” (Sept. 6) I would like to submit the following: Ms. Woodard, you sound like a very reasonable and human member of the county commission with good intentions, but I hate to inform you that the “community” you keep referring to stopped existing 20 years ago, when the city and county decided to merge into one. Please explain to me how it’s possible to expect community behavior in a county of 1 million people who are supervised by a board of only nine commissioners. Why should you be surprised at people doing such stupid, insensitive things to others when they can easily hide among the masses that you still refer to as a community? If this were the past when the county was full of several communities that policed themselves, the incident that offended you would have never been considered, simply because communities back then had respect for each other. If this is the type of behavior that you would expect from the county residents today, may I suggest that you and your commission show some more respect for the residents in the area by supporting instead of imposing your authority on their existence? After all, it wasn’t the Charlotte area communities’ choice to merge the entire county into one; it was yours, your fellow commissioners and their predecessors.
— Robert Williams, Charlotte
Who’re you callin’ a dive?
Recently you took it upon yourself to ride by my place, form a pretty narrow-minded opinion (“Dive On In” by Jared Neumark, Sept. 6) and gave me a little free advertising. My regulars (the ones who can read) got a real kick out of it.
Although I appreciate the really cool status as a “dive” (I was Mae West or Annie Oakley or one of those bitches in another life), I think if you were going to include me in your article, you could have taken the time to get in the door.
This includes an ancient sacred ritual where you click your heels together three times, scratch your butt twice and tell the great entity peering through the hole that you would like to come in and fill out a membership card.
If it were up to me I would serve everyone but alas, there is this funny little thing called North Carolina State Law that prevents me from doing so. I had the “creepy little door” built about five years ago. I would love to tell you that its purpose is extra protection for our wild sex parties or secret witches coven, but the truth is pretty dull.
The door is there for safety. Especially, if a woman (namely me) or another bartender is running the place late at night alone. Being the journalistic dynamo that you are, I’m sure you’ve read recent articles about bars and restaurants where the customers and staff were robbed.
So here is the story morning glory. First I will tell you a little about the place in case you ever decide to identify yourself and venture in or even respond to this letter.
Quick history: I have worked in this bar 11 years and owned it 10. There are about 1,200 to 1,500 photographs covering our walls to give you a fair idea of my clientele. When we are not doing human sacrifices outback, we’re really into the APA pool leagues. We like our racin’ and we all sit around and burp and fart on Sundays after church. In 11 years I have never had to call the law because everyone knows if they act like a jerk, they go into the stew pot for the next cookout.
All of the women in the bar have all of their teeth, but some of them are missing their ovaries and a finger or two.
My members range from ages 25-75, and only a few of them are on parole (and dammit, he needed killin’). Occasionally my friends play live music if they don’t have community service the next morning and most of the time we have running water.
Most of my regulars have been members for at least five years, but that is probably because I keep promising them sex, and they have no concept of time.
Anyhoo, I am always here on Mondays, Tuesdays, Fridays, and Saturday nights as well as Sundays. I would love to put a face with your commentary. So venture on in (with a name please), if you’re half as interesting as I pretend to be, it will be fun.
— Kathleen Daly, Charlotte
Owner of Keg & Cue
This article appears in Sep 20-26, 2006.
