Forum.RttP{I'm opening a new business.}

Today, for the first time in a few weeks, I went to lunch with my friend Jared. We went to 'The Stockade'. As I pulled into the parking lot, I could see this was an eatery with great promise. First off, the place was bigger than a fuckin' Wal*Mart. Since this was merely a steakhouse, this gave me hope that they actually murdered the animals on the premises. Maybe for an extra fee, I could watch a cow die screaming on a killing room floor. What a stone cold groove that would be. Also, above the entrance was a giant golden silhoette of a bull's head, giving the impression that this was the steakhouse co-owned by Slayer and Lemmy. Also, there was a grizzled old bearded man that looked like a retired lumberjack stoically smoking by the entrance. I was hopeful that this would be our maitre'd.

Sadly, this was not the case.

When we entered, I first saw a pair of college girls by the bar, no doubt husband-hunting. I saw polite and well-dressed waiters. I saw sissy-looking light fixtures. As we sat down, we were given a pansy mini-corn muffin each. They even had salads on the menu.

This was all wrong.

Seeking to right this cruel injustice, I decided to begin a plan to buy this restaraunt, and turn it into the fine dining experience is deserved to be. Here are a few ideas I am determined to put into action.

1] The aforementioned killing floor, with comfortable seating for vieweing the entertainment. Also, each death will be commentated on by Michael Buffer. 'Let's get ready to MUUUUUUUUUUUURRDEEEEEEEEERR!'.

2] If any of you have been to a 'Texas Roadhouse', you're familiar with their practice of littering peanut shells all over the floor. I assume this is to add to the 'authentic' Southern vibe. The Stockade will do something similar.. only instead of peanut shells the floor will be littered with spent bullet casings, condom wrappers, empty packs of Marlboro and crushed Budweiser cans.

3] Since this will be a man's man sort of place, no women will be allowed to eat their without the company of a man. If a woman comes in alone, she is guided into the 'Whore Corral', similar to a coat room. Just as it is when you go to a fancy restaraunt without a dinner jacket, if you come into The Stockade without a lady at your side, one will be provided for you.

4] All waiters will be forced to dress up as pirates or lumberjacks. And no fruity Johnny Depp pirates, either. Grizzled, toothless badasses with hooks for hands. Instead of simply asking for your order, they will first regale you with a grizzled tale from a life filled with barfights, gunshot wounds and abusive fathers. Also, they will never refer to you as 'sir'... only as 'buddy', 'pal' or 'Sonny Jim'. All bartenders will have to dress as one of the following three-- Sgt. Nick Fury, Rambo or Robocop. The maitre'd will be the retired lumberjack I mentioned earlier.

5] There will be no napkins, because that's for commies. Wipe your hands on your pants, Sally. We may possibly have a furry dog walking around for you to wipe your hands on, because who doesn't like petting a furry dog, really.

6] The restroom will have all sinks, urinals and stalls removed. There will only be one large drain in the middle of the floor. The floor will be white tile, and the walls will be surgical steel with pictures of bullfighters on them because bullfighters are kickass. The ceiling will have a huge mural of John Wayne. Because he's The Duke and you're a financial consultant, you red-headed fop.

7] Finally, the name of the restaraunt will be changed from 'The Stockade' to 'MEAT'. And that doesn't make it sound like a gay bar, no matter what you say.

I look forward to your patronage.