11 марта 2020 в 09:03
26.6 тыс
joshbrolin #repost @outlawarchive
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It boiled in the hot Southern California sun, surrounded by country that looked like a wasteland. Rocks, sand, scrub brush, rattle snakes and very little else. The only shade around was cast by the building itself. Inside there was no relief either, as the sun heated the flat roof, the inside temperature soared and became stifling and thick. The beer, which was dispensed from a nozzle protruding through the wall, was warm and usually flat. The restrooms were so rank that most went outside to piss. Above the beer nozzle was the only wall decoration in the place, a dark blue rectangle with Hells Angels Berdoo emblazoned upon it. The jukebox, if and when it worked, left an awful lot to be desired. What records were there, snapped and popped and either hung up or skipped and the directory was a joke, no record matched the named tunes that were listed, in fact very few tunes were listed. Push the buttons and get what you got. The floor was always sticky with spilled beer and drying blood. Behind the bar sat an elderly over weight black woman named Bertha, she never left her chair, everything was in reach of her heavy arms. Bertha was the proprietor and if she had to leave her seat, for what ever reason, some one was going to pay and pay hard. Other than her, the only occupants during the daylight hours were usually a few neighborhood blacks seeking a quick drink or maybe a roll in the sack with Bertha’s daughter. She was a prostitute and her favors were purchased from Bertha. After dark the scene would change and you could hear the roar of motorcycles as they pulled up. Otto, Booger Butch, Dougie Poo, Gut, Buzzard, Big Al, Terry the Tramp, Jimmy Johnson, Blind Bobby, Grubby Glen, Li’l Joe Sinker, Jerry the Jew, Billy Maggot, Dirty Dennis, Randy and who ever was visiting would park their bikes in the back on the patio; those not in the know would park out front. The Blue Blaze sat near the corner of Highland Avenue and Lytle Creek Road in the city of Fontana, California. Directly on the corner was an abandoned service station and behind it facing Lytle Creek Road were three run down one-room cabins.
