Boot lickin' or kicken?

“What's the name of this new place,” asked Pensacola Slim as we went under the Hurricane pass bridge on the Reverends tri-toon.

“Boot Kickers or something,” said Boston Bob. “They've been open about a month now and there hasn't been any good weather since New Years so we havan't been here yet!”

Some of us have but I didn't speak up. “Well, this is our old clubhouse,” said Slim, “the Channel Mark thrice removed!”

Rev docked in front of the old restaurant because the tide was ripping through the narrow 'Hurricane Pass'. The shallow pontoon boat would have been nearly impossible to maneuver into a soft landing. And I have several crashes on tape from years ago and the Rev didn't want to make the highlight reel.

We all bounded off the boat and onto the outside deck where we found a table large enough to suit our group. “I love this place,” said Boston Bob. And we waited while several other small parties were seated. “It's Saturday and the sunshine is bright in January so they are busy!”

“You have to expect they'd be busy but understaffed?” Pensacola Slim is a bar connoisseur who has been around the world several times sampling the worlds liquid fare. Or at least that's what he feels like when morning comes and the cheap white wine exacts it's due.

In a relatively short period, really, a young woman came and took our drink orders. “Welcome to Boot Kicken Sports Bar and Grill! It's happy hour,” she exclaimed gleefully so we ordered alcoholic drinks because we had our designated driver with us, the Rev.

Military Discount

It took a while for the mostly draft beer to arrive but the glasses were chilled and the beer was cold. “They have PBR on draft, Pabst Blue Ribbon? No wonder we're here,” said New York John, “I didn't know! I'll have that the next round!'”

We ordered lunch off two laminated sheets that didn't instill a lot of confidence. We were pleasantly pleased with the food and the drinks were great except Run-aground Ralph complained that there wasn't enough Scotch in his Scotch and soda. The jerk actually went up and watched the barmaid pour his second drink. “It's a three count,” he grumbled.

You can't please everyone but the majority of our group from the 'Dead End Canal Yacht Club' thought the value was good and we vowed to return. Especially for the view. “You can't survive on the view,” said Pensacola Slim.

This place may replace the Pukin' Pelican as our favorite place. At least my favorite place until they remove the PBR or the Pelican finally puts it in.

This blog/column is meant for educational purposes only. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Void where prohibited. Some assembly required. Do not read while operating a vehicle or heavy machinery. Keep sending those great questions and comments! (Contact) boatguied@aol.com