The painted sign in the window of the bar boasted ‘Coldest beer in America’. My husband winked at me and said, “A bold claim... We must go see if this is indeed true.” So that is how we met Benny.
Our eyes had a difficult time adjusting from the bright outdoor light as we entered the darkness of Benny's Bar on Tybee Island. The radio was blasting Donna Fargo singing something about having a 'Skippidity do da day ' but a quick glance at the noon clientele told me that most of their skips these days were reserved for just getting to Benny’s in the morning.
As soon as we straddled upon the stools Benny asked, “What’ll I get ya Bubba?”
“The coldest beer in town,” replied husband. Benny quickly corrected him, “In America,” he emphasized.
“We heard tale you had some hot dogs round here as well,” said husband.
“Yep. Beer steamed, gives ‘em a sweetish bite,” Benny said.
“We’ll take three then,” said husband.
As we drank our coldest beers in America and ate our beer steamed hot dogs, we overheard the following snippets of conversation:
“Quit handin him a pencil. He don’t wanna play Keno just yet. Hell, he can’t even hold his Jack and beer yet for all his shakin.”
“I felt like he was insulted cause I told him that 10 am in the morning was too soon to be doing shots of liquor...”
“Jagermeister shots on tap. Righteous stuff.”
“I’d like to hit my wife right now.”
“Now friend, order another pitcher cause the shape you’re in, she’d likely beat you up first and then her lawyer would have a good turn at ya.”
“Yeah, but I still wanna smash her in the mouth right now.”
“Just drink another pitcher and pass out so the fight’ll leave ya.”
“I really want custody of her but I have to go apply and stuff....fill out forms and like, go to alot of work and stuff.”
Not much to add to the local colorful conversation. If you go to Tybee Island, please go spend money in Benny's Bar. And, be sure to check out Georgia Kyle and the Tybee Two who play every Thursday at Fannie's . For a bunch of flatlanders, they sure can play the puddin' out of some hillbilly songs. And here's a hefty tip: Don't waste your money at Spanky's---the idiots there sell chili, fries and nacho cheese, but haven't figured out how to put the chili and cheese upon the fries without individually selling each item. Clearly the owner doesn't keep tab on his employees.