crossroads

During a recent trip to Lubbock, my husband and I visited an interesting bar. And when I say “interesting”, I mean “soscaryIthoughtIwasgoingtoberaped”.

Lee is the reason why we ended up in such a place. During a phone conversation, he suggested that we meet up at this bar called “Crossroads”.

Husband and I have never been there, so we did not know what to expect. We trusted Lee, so off we went to the bar. Tra-la-la.

I went in first, as husband was lollygagging outside (probably on the phone).

Big mistake.

I walked into this joint only to be greeted with whistles and stares by the bar flies that appeared to have been there since the night before. These guys were rough and dirty. The only other female in the joint was the bartender, and she looked pretty tough. Everyone else looked like they might have been on meth. No teeth, rough skin, visible sores….

Dale comes in and we walk as far away as possible from the crowd. Lee is not yet there. I tell Dale “Does Lee want me to get raped? Why did he suggest this place?” Dale replies with “Don’t worry, babe, I can take most of theses guys….except that one”.

He then points out the roughest rough neck looking meth head I have ever seen.

Chills went up my spine.

Then Lee walks in (nonchalantly—like he owns the place), buys a pitcher, and joins us at our table.

Then, we see some old guy hobbling to the bathroom. The guy barely had a nose. It was eaten away by cancer, or something. His face was covered in sores. It was like I was in a Stephen King story. I did not take any pics of the bar interior, as I thought they guys inside would kill me since most of them were probably wanted by the law. Plus, it was really dark in there. The flash from the camera might have revealed sights that were best kept unseen.

We drank that pitcher fast and got the hell outta there. I berated Lee for suggesting the place. He did not understand my discomfort. Friggen Lee.

Here is a pic of the sign posted on the front door:

Nice.