Wednesday, January 28, 2009. Phil and Janie Baker, Mike and "Hot" Donna Osborn, Boo and Jo Waarren, Bobby and Lovee Boyles, and Bobby Cowles were all back to work on the Iowa pig farm. Jil and Doc were back to "business as usual" at the bar, but Jil was leaving for a "spot check" of two of her other bars: "Cahoots" and "Screwball's", both located just over the Indiana line in southern Michigan. Her managers' reports were 'jiving' with what her computer records were telling her, and she suspected there might be some "skimming" going on. At the last minute, Doc decided to go along just to add "substance" to Jil's review of the situations.
Ron Oetting and Bob Ryan were nowhere to be found. One could only suspect they were taking a little "r&r", more than likely at a neighborhood bar - somewhere, anywhere. If Ryan and Oetting were given a divining rod with which to dowse for water, they'd almost certainly find alcohol instead. Bob was still talking about the weekend revelry. "Can you believe Mike Osborn passed out on the bar with a beer bottle glued to his lips?" Bob asked increduously. Ron replied with his own fond memory: "Yeah, but did you see Janie hugging that microphone? I think she was trying to make love to it! 'Course, when you you think about it: it's probably been a long time since she's had anything that skinny!' In his most sobersided tone, Bob reprimanded, "Now, now, let's not be making fun of Phil's rotundity when he's not here to reciprocate with jokes about your old age." Not three minutes after those words filled the bar, Phil walked in! 'G'day, Mates!" he greeted. "I was just passing through, saw your cars, and thought I'd stop for a cold one." To bob and Ron's astonishment, Phil looked sunburned - in the dead of winter! "Where the hell have you been?" Bob asked, "I thought you and Janie would be back in Iowa by now!"
Phil explained that, indeed, they were headed back to the farm, and - indeed - Janie was back home. "We weren't out of the city limits yet, when Janie asked me who that girl was at the bar Saturday night - or should I say Sunday morning? It was four o'clock and most of the crowd was passed out cold, but this girl was still ready to party hardy! Well, I thought, what the hell? She was really robust - if you know what I mean - with emphasis on the 'bust'. Janie was slobbering all over that stupid microphone, and I was having trouble manuevering through the dance floor clogged with drunken bodies. Janie must have overheard me ask the girl if I could jump her bones. Or maybe she overheard the girl's slick reply: 'You think you've got the boner to do it with, big boy?' Either way, that's about when Janie passed out. To be honest with you, I'm not completely clear as to what all happened. I remember the girl followed me into the men's room and grabbed hold of me.....making some ruddy remark about me not being able to lift anything heavy. I remember she told me her name was Tonya or Sonja - something like that; that's when I said, 'Well, Tonya, I'd sure like ta' bong ya'!' Next thing I know I woke up sitting on the toilet in the men's room with Tonya - or Sonja, or whatever the fuck her name was - straddled over me, with her chin dug into my left shoulder. I recall suggesting that she strip to the waist, and she took her pants off! Then she took mine off! How the rest of our clothes ended up in a pile underneath the urinal, I don't know! And I sure as hell don't know how we ended up sitting on the toilet facing each other! I have a very vague recollection of Janie coming in and whispering, 'Courtesy flush, please...' in my ear, but I don't have a clue as to where Tonya - or Sonja - was at that time. In fact, maybe I'm mistaken.....maybe that wasn't Janie. Maybe it was Tonya - or Sonja. Do you guys think there could've been two girls - one named Tonya and one named Sonja??" Anyway, to make a long story short, Janie threw Phil out of her car near the I-69 and I-469 interchange. Somehow, he'd managed to walk back to town and - somehow, as luck would have it - he managed to find Bob and Ron sitting in a strange bar where none of the three had ever been before! Phil's clothes filled with wet, damp snow, and road slush. He must have walked for over four miles, Bob somehow calculated. When the attractive brown bartender brought Phil a beer, he said, "Oh, okay...that'll do for a starter, but bring me something to warm up my innards. Better bring me some kickin' chicken." Ron whispered to the bartender, "That's Wild Turkey on-the-rocks, and keep 'em comin', okay?"
As the smooth warmth of the alcohol soothed his chilled body, Phil continued fantasizing about 'what the hell happened'? It wasn't like Phil to forget much of anything, but obviously an overabundance of booze had blurred his memory.
With the AROB group one member short (Adams was on her way to Michigan), Ryan, Oetting and Baker whittled away the day in this dark, cozy, rustic bar. As they swilled their libations, all three began to notice the very same thing about that cute little bartender: she was turning into a wretched shrew with intense eyes ablaze with hatred and disgust; her hair was beginning to fall out in piles on top of the bar; her teeth were turning an ugly shade of chartruese as some unidentified mocha-colored foam spewed from her grotesquely-shaped mouth. As she was transformed from a beautiful brown-eyed brunette with an inviting smile and a not-half-bad figure, the three began to ponder among themselves: was this just a bad halliucinatory case of the DTs - or were they in the "bar from Hell"? Either way, this was going to be a worrisome Wednesday!
Ever the eternal optimist, Phil suggested they all have a "few more drinks" to "take the edge off" - who knows, he surmised, "maybe she'll get prettier again!" Sure enough, by 2:00 a.m., she had been transformed into a knock-down, drop-dead gorgeous redhead with firey green eyes and a flirtatious smile. Phil ordered another bourbon, burped, and then asked in the most polite tone he was able tomuster, "Is your name Tonya by any chance?