a story about a forum where strangers become friends.

As I'm sitting here at my desk, staring at my computer screen, I'm taken back to my very first visit here at the Looney Bin Bar and Grill...not long after it opened. Glancing out of my front windows, I notice the snow has stopped falling. Looking back at my desk, I'm aware of the task at hand. Positioning my fingers on the keyboard, I begin to slowly type.
It was just a year ago when my boss, the editor at the T.H. newspaper, approached me about writing an article about the Looney Bin Bar and Grill. There was word around town that this place was occupied by some rather peculiar patrons and my job was to "dig up the dirt."
Of course, I was promised a rather generous benefits package, including a bonus, a salary increase, and a health insurance plan without deductibles and copays. Hey, what did I have to lose?
I gathered my voice recorder and mini camcorder, hoping to get some incriminating evidence of the rumored lunatic happenings of this strange place. With a thermos of hot coffee in hand, out the door I went. Running to my car, I was reminded of how bad the weather was becoming, but all I could think about was getting the story.....oh, and that fantastic benefits package.
I had been on the road now for hours, slowly making my way to my destination. Through the heavily falling snow, I could see the faint light of a sign flashing in the distance. That must be the place, I thought....but then my car started to sputter and it eventually stalled. I couldn't get it started, so I had no choice but to walk the rest of the way in the blowing, drifting snow. Oddly enough, my fully charged cellphone had died and I couldn't even make a phone call to get help. So now my car wasn't working and neither was my cellphone.
There I was, trudging through the snow, seemingly for hours, but I finally made it to the front door of the Looney Bin Bar and Grill. From the outside, it was a small, quaint looking place, out in the middle of nowhere.
Shaking from the cold, I grasped the handle of the door, opened it, and quickly went inside. The wind howled and whistled as I forced the door closed. Turning around, I saw a visual carnival of sights as I hurriedly removed my camcorder from my pocket and pushed the "record" button.
A poor fellow was being chased by a couple of women carrying some red plaid fabric, yelling "Bobnicky, Bobnicky, let us make you a kilt!" Okaay....but then the next sight that passes before my eyes is a lady with pink hair (and a halo over her head) by the name of "Trixie" who is passing out pink cigars in honor of the new "Bin Princess." A delightful and friendly character she was, so I asked her about this so called "Bin Princess." Pointing her finger, she replied, "She's over there with flowerchild61, the owner of this place." So, making my way through pink colored balloons and teddy bears....many teddy bears, I might add, I glanced over to my right to see a huge heart shaped hot tub filled with bubbles.....and an artificial sun shining overhead. I did a double take and noticed that there were 2 (obviously in love) people drinking from champagne glasses. They were oblivious to their surroundings, with only eyes for each other. Curious, (not in a voyeuristic way) I moved in closer to hear what they were saying.
"I'll get that for you, baby. No, baby, I'll do it." A very romantic couple, they were, so I decided to slowly ease my way backwards......... only to run in to a woman by the name of Gladys. Now Gladys seemed a bit edgy, to say the least. Apparently she had been watching my every move since I came through the door.
"What are you doing, you stay away from them, if I catch you over there again...I'll pummel you with a frying pan," she said, with lightening speed. "That's Kidworks and Sunshine, and nobody bothers them."
No problem...Kidworks is getting a little bit of Sunshine.......I get it....but I'm still looking for the "Bin Princess."
"She's over there," yells Gladys as she starts running, while picking up a pair of binoculars along the way.
As I make my way through the crowd, I notice everyone wearing buttons that say, "Proud to be a Looney-tic!" on them. So I ask a woman holding a lot of teddy bears and repeatedly saying nitey-nite...how do you get one of those buttons? She hands me a teddy bear and tells me I have to see Printbrat in the printing room, then says nitey-nite, hands me another teddy bear, drops to the floor and goes to sleep. Well, that was odd.
Then all of a sudden over a loud speaker I hear....
"MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE?"
Everyone freezes in their spot and it's perfectly quiet until I hear......
"I must..... I must....... I must decrease my butt! I might...... I might......make my hiney tight!"
"YOU MAY NOW RETURN TO YOUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAM."
As I stood there dumbfounded, everyone resumed what they were previously doing.
Realizing that Printbrat was too busy exercising, I skipped the printing room and continued my search for the so called "Bin Princess."
I barely moved to take a step when all of a sudden, Pfoooom...."Would you like cake, pink cake, pretty cake, any kind of cake?" she quickly asked. I replied, "No thanks, I'm looking for the Bin Princess." Cake still in hand, she points straight ahead and continues to make her way around the room asking people if they want cake.
Wondering what I could possibly see next, I look down to see this tiny little man with a pointed hat staring up at me...along with his buddy who looks like a doctor. They have their own portable brewing equipment with them and (with big grins on their faces) ask me if I'd like a swig of their special brew. Sensing trouble with these two, I quickly turn and run...straight into the Bin Princess nursery where I see a truly unbelievable sight. There in all of its glory is a beautiful swinging baby basket bathed in beautiful light from above....all in pink, naturally. A carousel horse gently circling to softly playing music, more teddy bears and of course, the Bin Princess peacefully sleeping in the arms of the owner of the establishment, flowerchild61. Moving closer, I hear from my right side, "Coffee is ready, would you like coffee?" That would be Orkid. Over to my left side was a wonderful banquet table filled with enticing foods. "Are you hungry, I have lots of food?" That was of course, DarPeterson.
Remembering that I was there for a story, I approached flowerchild61 and asked her why she created such an interesting place for people to play out their imaginations.
Her reply....... "It is what it is, and that's what it is."

HUH??

I left the Looney Bin Bar and Grill that evening wondering how I was going to write my article. Oddly enough, my car had been parked outside the front door, waiting for me to get inside for my journey home. Driving home, I thought about the people I had met and their unique personalities.
Since then, I've silently followed the adventures of the Looney Bin Bar and Grill, and what I've found is that you can be a cinnic, a sumbuddy, a brat, a flower, a know-it-all, or even a garden gnome and still be accepted in the Looney Bin.
What truly matters is that there is a place of comraderie and imaginative fun with a healthy dose of genuine kindness. Please, keep that spark of imagination going. I'll be watching.....Happy Birthday to the Bin Princess and everyone have a Happy New Year!


By the way, when I replayed my recordings from my equipment, they were entirely blank. I had no proof of the lunacy I had witnessed. It seems that anyone wishing to see the Looney Bin Bar and Grill must enter at their own choosing.
So, no story for my editor, no bonus, no salary increase, and no fantastic benefits package. Oh well, guess I'll have to pay my own insurance deductibles and co-pays like everybody else.
Side note:This thread started Nov 7,2008 and now has 33,160+ posts.

 

Did you happen to see a large white rabbit and a Cheshire cat in the Looney Bin Bar, if so their in the wrong story; or are they ??

 

Whatever happened to the pink elephant?

 

Great story Ob, I took a peek inside, recognized the bartender and the entertainment is outstanding. :cool