The locals I talked to all seemed to agree Lum’s is either the best barbeque in town, or tasty enough to balance the high cost of Cooper’s, down the road. I’ve eaten there three times now, found them to be clean, friendly, and surrounded by an ambiance unusual enough to be almost distracting. Good food, Lum’s.
As I finished my meal an older guy with a cane walked past my table. He sported a hip-holster with a Glock, ready for action. If I’d finished earlier, and if I’d arrived in town heeled, I’d have waited for him outside and shouted, “Fill your hand you SOB!”
Then he could have shot me down, gazed sadly at my bullet-riddled corpse and muttered, “Just another young tough trying to build a reputation.”
It would have provided a great denouement.
There’s corn here to be had.
A worthy cause that gives no offense except to those [such as myself] who don’t even like to be told what kind of day to have.
A futuristic wireless, cordless, phoneless booth.
And a bull trotting along the centerline blocking the highway for a mile or more. I took him to be another, spiritual kinfolk to myself, called to serve on the Big Jury, and headed home unrequited.