The Real Betty Lou - true story
Betty Lou - Bob Seger @ 1980
Have you heard the news
It's all over town
If you ain't heard it boys
You better sit down
I got the story here
It's hot off the press
Brace yourself now
And take a deep breath
Grab a hold of something
Hold on tight
Betty Lou's gettin' out tonight
First heard the rumor down on 12th and Main
The poor d**ggist he was going insane
His stuff is selling out like never before
He finally had to up and close the store
All the boys were getting ready to fight
Betty Lou's gettin' out tonight
Betty Lou's gettin' out tonight
Betty Lou's gettin' out tonight
She was bad
Her momma got mad
But now her momma said it's all right
All the boys are getting ready and right
Betty Lou's gettin'out tonight
Got up that summer Wednesday morning feeling good. I knew I was going out on a train sometime that day but didn't know when or where. Some on the railroad called it pool service, we called it chain gang. Every time we came in from a freight run we went to the bottom of a list for our next assignment. As crews got called for trains, we moved up the list. A call to the crew dispatcher informed me that I could expect a train sometime that afternoon. There were five possible routes out of our big city by the inland fresh water ocean in the northland. One route was fast and easy, the rest were more work with many delays. You took what came.
So what to do for the day? Understand, this is the days before cell phones or even pagers. If I'm not available when the call comes, I not only lose a lucrative trip, but stand for discipline as well. Once the phone rings I have 90 minutes to gather up my work gear and drive twenty five miles from my home in the woods to the diesel shop. No work in my wood shop, too noisy and I won't hear the phone. As it happened, I had five cords of stove length oak, ash and birch dumped next to my wood shed needing splitting and stacking. Good work for a summer day. A fine breeze rustled the aspen trees as I set to work. Splitting wood is not the hardest job but you do need to keep control of the splitting axe. The nearest window was opened so I could hear the phone and my only other distractions were the birds at the feeder, scuttering of chipmunks and squirrels and the hammering of woodpeckers. At 1:00pm the phone rang and I ducked inside to take my call: 3:00pm coal empties headed west with Engineer Johnson. The day just got better. I'd caught the fast train and Sam Johnson was my favorite "hoghead" (engineer) - skilled, confident, fast and full of irreverent humor. I briefly considered a shower before heading into town, but hey, I'd be dirtier yet before the day was over.
The westward trip was great as Sam had me howling with tales of his latest off duty exploits with a woman who'd called him to fix her plumbing (one of his several side jobs). By the time we pulled into the end of our run at 10:pm, Sam was off to see a local girlfriend and I was planning for food and a shower in that order. A quick check with the crew dispatcher showed that I'd be in town for 16 hours before heading back east. Sixteen hours - now there was a drink in my future too.
Dumping my road bag at the railroad motel, I headed off to the 24 hour greasy spoon for homemade meatloaf, mashed potatoes and canned peas with a lettuce salad. (In the rural northlands, there are only three known vegetables: peas, corn and green beans -all canned). Now fed, I hit the street to find a bar. There was a new one two doors down from the restaurant (as if five taverns in a small town weren't enough) so I stuck my nose in the door to take a look.
The bar was empty - except for the big gal behind the bar. (Before going on with this story, please check out the following picture:
Eliminati
) Add fifty fully animated pounds, bigger tits and a raucus laughing smile and you've got the vision that greeted my eyes. Ignoring the fact that I was dirty and sweaty, she slapped a coaster down on the bar and **** out a big hello saying "Hi, I'm Betty Lou! Buy me the first drink and I'll buy the second". What would you do? I sat down in front of her and ordered a Jameson's and a beer.
She liked my choice, pulling the Jameson's off the top shelf. Only pausing a moment she grabbed a bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream and poured a tall glass for herself. She took a long pull and still smiling, turned to the juke box control calling up the now famous Bob Seger song heading this tale. Singing along with the pounding beat, she strutted and shook her giant tits in my face. I can't remember who paid for the next three or four rounds, but we unbelievably had the place to ourselves as she told me her tale between more rocking tunes and liquid refreshment.
Her husband of f******n years (another "rail") had just dumped her (the fucking idiot) and moved in with a woman on the other end of his westward run. He left her in town with a *************** daughter and a double wide trailer. Not her real name, "Betty Lou" was christened by her girlfriends after watching her reaction to the divorce. She signed up for classes at the local tech school and got a job in the bar. She made it known that she wasn't going to sit around moping.
Closing time approached. With all of her singing and dancing Betty Lou was one beautiful glistening sweaty mess. Smiling across the bar, she announced: "I need to get out of these clothes and into a hot shower". Knowing her daughter was staying with friends for the night, I kindly offered the shower in my motel room. "Will you be joining me?" she asked. My grinning leer gave her the answer.
At the motel I showed her the bathroom and left to dispose of my dried sweaty work clothes. Waiting until I heard the water running, I entered the bathroom and pulled back the shower curtain. I was confronted with more super-sized beauty than I could have possibly imagined. "Betty Lou", as big as she was, was beautifully proportioned and her giant tits stood up proud and firm. Thank God that motel had a big water heater, 'cause we worked it for an hour. We also discovered that we both craved soft caresses and oral sex. Under proper circumstances, soapsuds don't taste half bad.
Clean bodies and fresh sheets were made for each other. "Betty Lou" was made for me and I was made for her. Neither in a hurry, we made love for five hours before drifting off to sleep. How delicious to wake up next to my new best friend. Over the next two years, any call to run to her town set my heart racing. She knew I was married and would not leave my wife, but we knew too that we loved each other deeply. During our last year together, a local man wooed her endlessly wanting to marry. For a time she held out to see if I might come around. I did not. Our last evening together we shared a slow dinner together at the best restaurant in town then a farewell kiss at her trailer door.
Thirty tears later, I love her still. Here's to you "Betty Lou" and a special thanks to you Bob Seger.
Have you heard the news
It's all over town
If you ain't heard it boys
You better sit down
I got the story here
It's hot off the press
Brace yourself now
And take a deep breath
Grab a hold of something
Hold on tight
Betty Lou's gettin' out tonight
First heard the rumor down on 12th and Main
The poor d**ggist he was going insane
His stuff is selling out like never before
He finally had to up and close the store
All the boys were getting ready to fight
Betty Lou's gettin' out tonight
Betty Lou's gettin' out tonight
Betty Lou's gettin' out tonight
She was bad
Her momma got mad
But now her momma said it's all right
All the boys are getting ready and right
Betty Lou's gettin'out tonight
Got up that summer Wednesday morning feeling good. I knew I was going out on a train sometime that day but didn't know when or where. Some on the railroad called it pool service, we called it chain gang. Every time we came in from a freight run we went to the bottom of a list for our next assignment. As crews got called for trains, we moved up the list. A call to the crew dispatcher informed me that I could expect a train sometime that afternoon. There were five possible routes out of our big city by the inland fresh water ocean in the northland. One route was fast and easy, the rest were more work with many delays. You took what came.
So what to do for the day? Understand, this is the days before cell phones or even pagers. If I'm not available when the call comes, I not only lose a lucrative trip, but stand for discipline as well. Once the phone rings I have 90 minutes to gather up my work gear and drive twenty five miles from my home in the woods to the diesel shop. No work in my wood shop, too noisy and I won't hear the phone. As it happened, I had five cords of stove length oak, ash and birch dumped next to my wood shed needing splitting and stacking. Good work for a summer day. A fine breeze rustled the aspen trees as I set to work. Splitting wood is not the hardest job but you do need to keep control of the splitting axe. The nearest window was opened so I could hear the phone and my only other distractions were the birds at the feeder, scuttering of chipmunks and squirrels and the hammering of woodpeckers. At 1:00pm the phone rang and I ducked inside to take my call: 3:00pm coal empties headed west with Engineer Johnson. The day just got better. I'd caught the fast train and Sam Johnson was my favorite "hoghead" (engineer) - skilled, confident, fast and full of irreverent humor. I briefly considered a shower before heading into town, but hey, I'd be dirtier yet before the day was over.
The westward trip was great as Sam had me howling with tales of his latest off duty exploits with a woman who'd called him to fix her plumbing (one of his several side jobs). By the time we pulled into the end of our run at 10:pm, Sam was off to see a local girlfriend and I was planning for food and a shower in that order. A quick check with the crew dispatcher showed that I'd be in town for 16 hours before heading back east. Sixteen hours - now there was a drink in my future too.
Dumping my road bag at the railroad motel, I headed off to the 24 hour greasy spoon for homemade meatloaf, mashed potatoes and canned peas with a lettuce salad. (In the rural northlands, there are only three known vegetables: peas, corn and green beans -all canned). Now fed, I hit the street to find a bar. There was a new one two doors down from the restaurant (as if five taverns in a small town weren't enough) so I stuck my nose in the door to take a look.
The bar was empty - except for the big gal behind the bar. (Before going on with this story, please check out the following picture:
Eliminati
She liked my choice, pulling the Jameson's off the top shelf. Only pausing a moment she grabbed a bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream and poured a tall glass for herself. She took a long pull and still smiling, turned to the juke box control calling up the now famous Bob Seger song heading this tale. Singing along with the pounding beat, she strutted and shook her giant tits in my face. I can't remember who paid for the next three or four rounds, but we unbelievably had the place to ourselves as she told me her tale between more rocking tunes and liquid refreshment.
Her husband of f******n years (another "rail") had just dumped her (the fucking idiot) and moved in with a woman on the other end of his westward run. He left her in town with a *************** daughter and a double wide trailer. Not her real name, "Betty Lou" was christened by her girlfriends after watching her reaction to the divorce. She signed up for classes at the local tech school and got a job in the bar. She made it known that she wasn't going to sit around moping.
Closing time approached. With all of her singing and dancing Betty Lou was one beautiful glistening sweaty mess. Smiling across the bar, she announced: "I need to get out of these clothes and into a hot shower". Knowing her daughter was staying with friends for the night, I kindly offered the shower in my motel room. "Will you be joining me?" she asked. My grinning leer gave her the answer.
At the motel I showed her the bathroom and left to dispose of my dried sweaty work clothes. Waiting until I heard the water running, I entered the bathroom and pulled back the shower curtain. I was confronted with more super-sized beauty than I could have possibly imagined. "Betty Lou", as big as she was, was beautifully proportioned and her giant tits stood up proud and firm. Thank God that motel had a big water heater, 'cause we worked it for an hour. We also discovered that we both craved soft caresses and oral sex. Under proper circumstances, soapsuds don't taste half bad.
Clean bodies and fresh sheets were made for each other. "Betty Lou" was made for me and I was made for her. Neither in a hurry, we made love for five hours before drifting off to sleep. How delicious to wake up next to my new best friend. Over the next two years, any call to run to her town set my heart racing. She knew I was married and would not leave my wife, but we knew too that we loved each other deeply. During our last year together, a local man wooed her endlessly wanting to marry. For a time she held out to see if I might come around. I did not. Our last evening together we shared a slow dinner together at the best restaurant in town then a farewell kiss at her trailer door.
Thirty tears later, I love her still. Here's to you "Betty Lou" and a special thanks to you Bob Seger.
10年前
