Best Little Roadhouse in Virginia

I woke up this morning with a splitting headache, disgusting smokey hair and The Voices in My Head singing a startling rendition of The Stanglers' Always the Sun.
You see, last night I did something I rarely do. I walked into a bar alone in an attempt to kill time before Jerry picked me up. Granted, it is a friendly little bar I've been to a thousand times, the Best Little Roadhouse in Virginia in fact, it's still not something I would normally do. When you are the only woman in the joint and taking the only available seat at an 8 seat bar, you have a couple of choices to make while the other patrons stare at you. You can:
A) Stare at your own reflection in the mirror.
2) Stare at the bartender's ass.
Lastly) Order some food.
I chose "Lastly".
I ordered my usual favorite, Roadhouse Nachos (by the by, the nachos at King Street Blues are the tastiest things I have ever put in my mouth ... ever!). As I was making sure the topping-to-chip proportions were just shy of perfection, I realized why it can sometimes be a bit uncomfortable to sit in a bar in Virginia: they still let people smoke in close proximity to the food and drink of others. As puffs of smoke whisped their way across my plate, I heard what I can only assume was the ghost of Wolfman Jack or Lucifer Himself say something to the bartender. I didn't look to see which one it was, I was far too frightened! I probably couldn't have seen clearly, anyway, the smoke was so thick. In an attempt to avoid options A & 2 and The Dark Lord sitting to my left, I decided to focus on my food and count in my head, which is what I always do to avoid the task at hand (i.e.: climbing mile high escalators, waiting in long lines, standing on a crowded train, waiting for Satan's putrid breath to reach my neck). Counting, counting, counting....
All of a sudden, Lou Cipher decides to cough up a lung! Hey, Beelzebub, sulphur getting to ya?? Wow! This time I dared to look beyond the puffs of smoke (and the Dark Underling) to the clock on the wall. Only 50 minutes left until Jerry should show up, timely guy that he is!!! Yay!
More counting, counting, counting.....
Just as Martin Mull to my right, with his diamond earring flashing brilliantly, is telling me how straight and lonely HE is and what lovely hands I have, my prince arrived! Jerry doesn't usually get such a warm welcome from me, but last night was special!