Gotta Stanky Coh?

September 16, 2008

Setting up our gig on Saturday night at the LCP Club, The DejaBlue Grass Band ran into a little technical issue. It reminded me of the time years ago when I was the defacto manager of a little country store called Story’s Gulf and Grocery, simply known as “The Bottle” that stood on the site of a bye-gone iconic Alabama landmark outside Opelika, AL on Hwy 280. (Old timers still refer to “The Bottle” as such even though the original “Bottle” burned several decades back and Story’s store took a bullet for road expansion in the early ’90’s.)

About sunrise one nippy Sunday morning, a Chambers County pulpwood trucker hunched himself inside for a cup of coffee…an authentic “chain-sawin’, log-skinnin’, ‘tree-climbin’, limb-dodgin’, truck-drivin, rough-ol’-loggin man”. We served the kinda institutional coffee only a pulpwooder could stomach in a small styrofoam cup mixed with that godawful powdery poison creamer stuff. It was dreadful. I oughta know. I made it. He gnarled his fingers around the cup, fished his pocket for a couple of quarters, and as he reached the counter, peeked out from under his once deer-hunter-orange cap and mumbled,        “I nee a stanky coh. “Ya’ll gotta stanky coh?”.
“I’m sorry,….what?”, I replied.
“A stanky coh. I nee a stanky coh dis mawnin’. Bout fihtty fee”
“Pardon? You need a… what?…a stinky coat?”
“Naw. A stanky coh. I nee bout fihtty fee”
“I’m sorry, sir.  Stinky corn??  A sticky cone??”
“Naw!….A stanky coh! Y’know. I gotta plug in sump’m cross da room, and I need a fihtty foot stanky coh”
“Ahhhhh! An extension cord! Of course!”

Well, Saturday night 100 feet separated us from the nearest power outlet, and Keith saved the day on his way over, stopping by the Home Depot. We are now the proud owners of a 100 foot stanky coh.


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