Chicken Shit Bingo
There’s a bar here in Austin called Ginny’s Little Longhorn Saloon that does something called Chicken Shit Bingo every Sunday evening from 4 P.M. to 8 P.M. A couple of my girlfriends and I were going to partake of the experience since it has taken on an Austin legendary status. Ginny’s Little Longhorn Saloon is a long, skinny dive bar on Burnet Road that plays country western and features some kick ass live musicians. For Chicken Shit Bingo we got to listen to Dale Watson.
Chicken Shit Bingo, for those of you who are unfamiliar with the concept, is a bingo where the caller is really the chicken. Feed is put down on a large plywood bingo board that’s covered in a crate with chicken wire, and whichever number the chicken shits on is the number that everyone marks on their cards. You pay for a card, and if you win then I presume you get to take the pot home.
One of my girlfriends “chickened” out on me, shall we say. The other girlfriend and I met at precisely 4 P.M. on Sunday night. We ordered two beers. We could have eaten there since chili dogs out of Crock Pots were provided as a courtesy for our enjoyment. We just chose not to do so. We stayed until 5:30. First off, let me say, Dale Watson is ridiculously talented. His first set was great. There was a couple swing dancing to the up tempo numbers on a dance floor that must have been the size of a floor tile. They were fun to watch.
Also, you, Hot Guy, who looks sort of like Matthew McConaughey! You were wearing a navy bandana around your head and a red hankie out of the left ass pocket of your jeans and walking around with a camera – call me.
Unfortunately, we didn’t end up staying for the Chicken Shit Bingo. The line to buy cards to play was ridiculous. The bar was overcrowded. I guarantee you that if a fire marshall would have made an inspection at that moment the place would have been shut down on the spot. I am going to guess that there might have been close to one hundred people there in a bar without central heating and air. There’s one window unit literally kept together with duct tape that looks like it might have enough horsepower to keep one small bedroom cool, and some ceiling fans. I was literally going to sweat to death before the chicken could get done shitting.
Some additional observations: my friend and I saw a young family enter the bar with two preschool aged children. Only in Texas can you see a mother with toddler on hip, with the aforementioned toddler holding a pocket sized version of the New Testament, next to Dad, who is holding a beer in one hand and his gambling money in the other, on a Sunday afternoon. All this in a state where liquor stores are required to be closed on Sundays. That being said Ginny’s does have a family friendly sort of atmosphere. You have to get up and make a walk to the bar to get a beer for yourself, but the wait staff will pass the hat themselves to make sure the musicians get tipped.
My friend and I left and decided to go to Trudy’s North Star for some margaritas and Tex-Mex at a place that’s definitely not part of the Keep Austin Weird movement. In its favor: the food was good, the place was cool, and someone served you your drinks. My friend and I would definitely go back to Ginny’s again. We are going in the winter and bringing our own personal fans and fire extinguishers…just in case.