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7:24 a.m. - 2004-03-03

JOE AND HIS MAGIC DANCING SHOES

The reports of the death of the mullet have been greatly exaggerated.

For it is alive and well at the club I work at (heretofore known as "my club", even though I don't own it. It's just easier to refer to it as that).

Last night, while spinning the tunes at my club (which I don't own ... see above)this guy walked in and he was the spitting image of Joe Dirt.

I had no choice but to chuckle like a maniac when I saw him.

You'd think he would have gotten the memo that states "Quit wearing your hair like that, you redneck moron."

But nope.

Not Joe Dirt.

Joe took a seat at the bar, ordered a drink and then turned around on his stool to check the place out.

Scoping for chicks who'd want to run their fingers through the mullet.

Apparently, none of the women in the place were privileged enough to caress the 'let, so he focused his attention on the bottle of Bud Light in front of him.

To appease him, I put on "Sweet Home Alabama" ... the redneck National Anthem.

Sure enough, as soon as that first guitar riff started, Joe Dirt raised his beer in the air and let out a rebel yell to let me know he appreciated my selection of music.

Without turning around and facing me.

Halfway through the song, Joe decided it was time to do his mating dance.

He got down off his stool, moved it out of the way carefully, and then did a slow shuffling dance that looked like he was wiping mud off his shoes while his thumbs were tucked firmly into his armpits.

By himself.

I looked around and realized that I wasn't the only one amused by Joe Dirt's antics. Several people were grinning at him.

The song ended, Joe sat back on his stool and resumed drinking his beer.

A few minutes later, he turned around on the stool, looked my way and yelled "PLAY MORE SKYNYRD!!"

Here's a tip for those of you who frequent the bars.

When requesting a song or artist from the DJ, it helps if you either approach the DJ face to face or perhaps write your request down on a napkin and have a waitress deliver it to the DJ.

Joe, on the other hand, preferred the "screaming like an idiot" approach.

I'll be honest ... I'm not a fan of Lynyrd Skynyrd. Never have been and never will be.

I have two songs by the band that I take with me when I DJ: "Sweet Home Alabama" and "Freebird".

So I put on "Freebird".

As soon as I did, a loud "YEEEEEWWWWWWWW!" tumbled out of Joe's mouth.

Joe decided that if he was going to use the mullet to bag him a lady friend, now was the time.

He walked over to a table of women and after being rebuked by three of them, the fourth agreed to dance with him.

They got on the dancefloor and he was slow dancing like a gentleman, holding her hand in his close to his chest.

"Freebird" is a slow song for about four minutes. And then it turns into a redneck jam session that goes on for days.

It was when the song broke out into the frenzied jam that Joe decided to show just what he was made of.

He started doing an exaggerated version of his shuffle dance, shuffling around the dance floor and bobbing his head like an epileptic chicken.

I glanced over at the lady's three friends, who were all giggling hysterically at their friend who was trying graciously to keep up with Joe to no avail.

Finally, after about 11 minutes of the jam, the woman walked off the dance floor, leaving Joe to prance around in his own little Skynyrd World by himself.

At the end of the song, a sweaty Joe came over to the DJ booth, shook my hand and thanked me for the song.

He stayed about 20 minutes longer after that and then finally left.

Out into the night air.

Spreading the gospel of the mullet.

And Skynyrd.

God bless you Joe Dirt.

You made an otherwise boring Tuesday evening lively for just the short time you graced us with your presence.

You fucking redneck, you.

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