The very first hunter to haul in a freshly-shot deer to the Two Bucks Deer Cooler and Smokehouse argued that because of the name on the sign he should only have to pay $2, “two bucks”.
Buddy laughed, then thoughtfully proposed “Okay, but you gottta gimme one of those back legs too, my choice.” That became his standard fee, $2 and a prime hind quarter.
Those choice cuts were smoked into jerky which hunters bought to chew on while waiting for their deer to be butchered. Then Buddy got a license to sell beer and business really took off. He boasted that the deer processing always was a loss leader “just to bring the boys in so’s I kin sell’em beer and jerky.” The outdoor pool table showed up on its own, another midnight miracle., and it fit right in too.
Two Bucks solved Buddy’s problems:
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- He had to stagger only a few yards to get to his own bed in his own doublewide.
- Company came to him.
Hence, nirvana.
His old Ford Ranger rusted quietly beside the trailer, cranked up only on the odd occasion when Buddy made a run to the store for some luxury like soap.
He wanted to let his hair and beard grow out but as he said, “Hell may have no fury like a woman scorned but Hel does.”
TO BE CONTINUED…