Not exactly a romantical NJ Chicken Farmer

 This is a Valentines Story, sort of:

The next town north of where our Navy base was in Lakehurst, New Jersey, is Lakewood. It had a theater we went to and a bookstore, and several bars. It was less than ten miles away.

Off the main street, down a couple of blocks was a bad neighborhood. It looked like it may have been a high crime area. There on one side of the street was a bar we named BAR X. BAR X was a seedy looking bar, that all the patrons looked like they were up to no good.

Across the street from BAR X was another seedy looking Bar, which we named BAR Z. If we were just visiting it in today's time, we would probably name it BAR XXX. The place had a few prostitutes hanging out and at the door was a big black woman that always seemed to be at the entrance who always tried to impress new comers with her song she made up "Play with my Box and I'll suck your Cock!" I don't know how she did it, but Box and Cock rhymed.

Another bar in the Lakewood area we found interesting was a few miles south of town. It was a rural bar that mostly farmers hung out at. Video juke boxes were just becoming popular in bars, they were cheap entertainment.

One evening I drove into Lakewood by myself to go to a movie. My friends had duty. After the movie on the way back to the base I stopped by the rural bar to have a drink.

The joint was crowded. The only seat available was at the bar by a woman that was sitting by a man, who I found out soon enough the man was her husband.

She whined to me that her husband would not dance with her. He was a chicken farmer and believed in working all the time. It was their 25th anniversary and he was not going "get out there and make of fool out myself" he said.

I jokingly said, "Aww come on! Twenty five years, celebrate! dance with her!"

He never smiled. He turned around and looked me up and down and said, "You dance with her Butter Ball!"

I laugh jokingly.

He said, "I mean it, you want to see her dance you dance with her now!"

I nervously laughed again.

He said, "Now Butter Ball!! I mean it!"

I said, "Let me go to the head first..." And walked towards the John.

And pass the MEN sign and walked right out the door, hopped into my PV544 Volvo and hauled ass.