—Popular, Part III—
—The Misadventures of ‘Lynn’ ‘Coon’ and ‘Tater’—
I believe at some point in a Southern Boys life; he has to be “Initiated” as a Southerner.
Enter “Coon,” and “Tater.”
I don’t remember how we met.
“Coon” and “Tater” were pretty fun to hang out with.
They seemed like good ol’ Southern guys just wanting to have good fun.
We would cruise the strip and go to Bon Fires and Parties.
It was mostly innocent fun—in the beginning.
Coon told me he managed a Restaurant.
Me being a former Manager of a Restaurant, I could relate.
“Tater” worked on his dad’s farm. I’m guessing it was something to do with Potatoes.
And there were a lot of Potato Farms in our area.
One Friday Night, it was after Midnight when I got off work; I left to go over to “Taters” home.
Tater lived alone on his dad’s farm in a single-wide trailer.
It was decent enough for a bachelor.
I picked them both up, and we headed into town.
Again, this was after Midnight.
Nothing good ever happens after Midnight.
“Hey, let’s go over to my Restaurant, and I’ll get us a few Steaks to grill,” said Coon.
Steak sounded great to me at the time. I pointed the car toward his Restaurant and headed that way.
Once at the Restaurant, Coon and Tater get out of the car.
“We’ll run in and get it. It’ll be a second. Wait here.”
I waited and listened to Pink Floyd on my car’s Bose Radio.
Ten minutes or more go by when they come back to the car.
“Open the trunk,” Coon said.
I popped the trunk, and they put the Steaks in the trunk.
I cranked the car and headed back over to Tater’s home to grill some Steaks.
Once at “Taters,” I pop the trunk and hop out of the car.
I walked to the back of the car to see the Steaks.
Upon first inspection, I didn’t understand what I was seeing.
I then realized it was a garbage bag full of Steaks, Ribs, Chops, and any other meat the Restaurant had in its Cooler.
“Wait. This is stolen. Y’all stole this, didn’t ya?” I asked.
Tater had a grin on his face.
“Coon” says, “they won’t be able to figure out who done it. Don’t worry.”
“Well, you used your key,” I said.
Tater grins and says, “What key? We used a Hammer.”
“What? You actually broke into the joint?” I asked.
They both begin laughing.
“Do you actually work there?” I asked “Coon.”
“Did. Dishwasher. Got fired, though.”
“I’m outta here,” I said, shutting the trunk and getting into my car.
I went home.
On my way home, I kept thinking about how stupid I had been.
It was a long drive home that night.
