So I find myself at the Ruston Inn, yet again. Oh, boy. The 12 or 15 loud talkers on a recent Thursday, all in their 40s and 50s, wearing NASCAR jackets, flannel shirts and hockey jerseys. It’s gonna be another fun night indeed.

Over in the corner is the eldest: A lonely divorced dad in his 60s is getting plastered and watching “PINKS” while his two 34-year-old sons mow through White Russians, doing their best to add to their already generous wads of back fat.

I love eavesdropping in on their lives. Hell, I watch cable all day, and the Ruston Inn is more interesting.

I should mention that I always have a great time at the Ruston Inn. The Ruston Inn lounge, decorated with various car racing posters, houses retro cool, wavy cut, red vinyl booths and matching swivel chairs. I love lounging on said seating, dreaming of the ’60s, wishing they would match them with sea foam walls, cosmic, space-age pendant lighting and go-go dancer platforms at the end of its long, narrow room.

The other thing that gives me glee besides the clientel and booths — their liquor. This dive lounge carries top shelf vodka, like my favorite Stoli Elit at prices cheaper than the beautiful lounges that also shelf the high-end goods.

It’s groovy with a mullet.

[Ruston Inn, 5105 N. Pearl St., Ruston, 253.752.3288]