The Dentist with a Guinness
I met some buddies at Trainwreck last week, and ran into JR – Dentist to the Stars (of Branson).
I think being a dentist in the Ozarks would be a pretty sweet gig. I mean, most of your patients only have a few teeth, so cleanings would be a breeze. And you might get paid in moonshine on occasion. Sweet.
There was another guy there I see about once a year. For his safety, let’s just call him Bob.
You see, years ago, I was on the way to bet the Kentucky Derby. I knew Bob went to school about 45 minutes off the beaten path, so I stopped by campus.
After looking for almost an hour, I found his dorm and called his room from the lobby.
“WTF are you doing?” he asked.
“We’re going to bet the derby,” I replied.
“We’re not going anywhere. I’m hungover. But have fun.”
Long story short – we left about fifteen minutes later.
We never made it to the horse races because the dog track had a matinee card – Hello – and was a lot closer.
Don’t worry about the derby. I called my bookie, and bet $20 across the board on the eventual winner.
Anyway, we were over-served at the dog track, and made a foolish decision to drive home. Actually, that decision was made by me.
I got pulled over by the po-po on the way home. Now let me say here, I don’t condone drinking and driving. I was young and stupid back then. But the lure of cheap beer and trifecta boxes had clouded my judgment.
The state trooper asked me to get out of the car, and put me through some field sobriety tests.
“You seem intoxicated to me,” he said.
“Well, that can’t be good,” I responded.
“Has your buddy been drinking?”
I looked at Bob sitting shit-faced in the passenger seat, and said, “No.”
“Why are you driving if you’ve been drinking, and he hasn’t?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, I’ll let you guys go if he drives.”
I walked back to the car and said, “Don’t say a word. Just get in the driver’s seat, and we’re out of here.”
“I’m not driving,” he replied.
The trooper was staring at us. I just smiled and waved.
“He doesn’t think you’ve been drinking.”
“You are unbelievable.”
Bob walked around the front of the car, and also waved to the cop. The cop waved back, and off we went.
Apparently Bob didn’t have much experience driving a fine automobile like a 5-speed Ford Escort. He had a little trouble getting her out of 1st and 2nd gear, but we were mobile.
He pulled off at the next exit after watching the patrol car turn around in the rear-view mirror.
“You take it from here.”
Here’s where the story gets a little fuzzy. I don’t remember this – shocker – but we went to a party on campus when we got back. Bob was dating this cute little redhead, who was with us.
I swear I could pass a polygraph, but he claims I was hitting on her. To make matters worse, I allegedly told her that our romantic tryst came with Bob’s blessing.
“Did you say it was okay if Benny slept with me?”
This story seems a little far-fetched to me. But, hey, like I said, I was young and stupid back then.
And if I remember correctly, she was pretty hot.
I . . . Who took the money? Who took the money away? I . . . It’s always show time. Here at the edge of the stage.