Dude wears a bushy handlebar mustache and a matching gray ponytail that runs down the length of his spine. He takes a pull from his Rolling Rock, shakes his head and glares in my direction — but not at me. Ponytail's scowl hits the fellow seated beside me at the bar, the one drinking Budweiser, the one who is now contemplating the next thing he will or won't say while puffing heavily on an Austin brand cigarette.
Ponytail and Austin both appear to have been knocking 'em back for a good part of the day. The room is quiet except for the commentators on TV. The other five or six guys — and the cute gal with big silver hoop earrings who serves us beer from Igloo coolers — pretend not to notice the face-off. I take a healthy draw from my $2 Bud and wonder: Is shit about to hit the fan at Barefoot Billy's Friendly Tavern?
The bar is a tiny dive on Gandy Boulevard in Tampa. It's near the obnoxious Hummer billboard that reads "Un-dork yourself." If you weren't looking for the joint, you wouldn't even see it.
Sunday's NASCAR race accounts for the heated debate between Ponytail and Austin. Ponytail says it's bullshit that drivers ain't penalized for cuttin' corners and dippin' through the grass on the 11 turns at Watkins Glen. Austin counters that it's not an advantage since the lawn slows the car and might make it spin out. Both men are adamant about their respective positions on the issue. Both men are drunk in the middle of the afternoon. Both men look ready to hold their ground.
Ponytail roots for Tony Stewart. Austin backs Jeff Gordon. This doesn't help matters. The two drivers are rivals, and there is nothing that Stewart fans like to do more than accuse Gordon and his supporters of being sissies. It's one of the few things I know about NASCAR.
For instance, say you're in a redneck bar and some bubba asks: "So, you must be rooting for Gordon?" Your safest reply is something like: "Hell no, he's the biggest whiner in NASCAR." Or if you really want to impress the bubbas, question Gordon's sexuality. The "Gordon is gay" rumor is a big one in NASCAR circles. Has been for years. Repeating it is a guaranteed crowd-pleaser in certain company.
Ponytail glares at Austin. I watch attentively, half hoping these two duke it out old-school, right here in the middle of the bar or maybe out back by the picnic tables. The rest of us could form a circle, hoot, holler and place bets.
But a brawl never materializes. Ponytail and Austin simply ignore each other. The silent treatment. Boring. I kind of feel bad about wishing for fisticuffs. Well, until I hear Ponytail yell at the TV screen, "What we need now is a wreck, damn it."
Ponytail probably isn't hoping for a fatality. Chances are he just wants to see a fender bender, one that allows Stewart to nab the victory. Probably.
The funny thing is, moments after Ponytail requested a wreck he gets it. Stewart trails Gordon with only two laps left. Gordon has the race in the bag. But then he enters the first turn on his next to last lap and spins out. Loses control. Loses the race.
"Well, there you go," Austin says ruefully.
Ponytail pumps his fist, then grabs a ratty leash, and I realize the dog scampering around the bar is his. Minutes earlier, Ponytail was on his cell phone promising to be home "the second the race ended."
"When do you get off?" Ponytails asks the bartender. Before she answers, he continues: "How about you drive me to my mama's house?"
"How about you have your mama come here and pick you up," she says.
Ponytail looks at least 55 years old.
"No, can't do that," he says, putting his crinkled cash down on the bar.
He leaves. With the mutt. And an unopened beer for the walk home.
"God, I love to see Gordon lose," says a guy with a scraggly beard, long hair and a white T-shirt that's on inside-out — a white T-shirt with the sleeves hacked off to display faded green tattoos. He directs his comment at Austin.
"Well, he's still one helluva racer," Austin says.
"He's a whiner," Scraggly Beard says. "I can't stand the guy."
"He's doing all right," Austin says. "He's got more money and been with more women than most of the rest of us."
"Disappointed more women," another guy quips.
Scraggly Beard gets a kick out of this.
"You know what they say about him," he says.
Austin seems oblivious to the whole "Gordon is gay" thing.
"He's, he's said 'no' to more women than you've had," Austin counters feebly.
It's a sad scene. I ask for my tab.
Barefoot Billy's Friendly Tavern, 3120 Gandy Blvd., Tampa. 813-831-8703.
This article appears in Aug 15-21, 2007.