So apparently LaOtto, Indiana is a place. I had not heard of
it before, which made me question its status as a place. The Untappd app jumped
up and down and told me this place was there, so I closed my eyes and let it
drive me.
It was dark and my eyes were closed, so I don’t know how the
fuck I got there, but I got there.
Turns out that I was only about ten minutes out of Fort
Wayne, but it felt like I was in Montana. They had an old muzzle loader on the
wall above the bar, and beer names like Deer
Funeral Brown and Death Perception
Stout. This place might be the best kept secret in the Midwest.
When the app told me I could open my eyes, I climbed out of
the car and discovered that I was in a little po-dunk place. The Shot &
Bull tavern down the street was busy. So was the bar in the other direction.
But this place had more cars out front than the other two put together.
As I entered, three drunk girls came stumbling out. They
looked like they had never tried meth before, and it was only 8:30—too early to
be drunk unless you were at a good bar. There were two dudes with them, but
they weren’t very imposing looking. Upon first inspection, it appeared to be an
upscale restaurant with nice people eating dinner. I pulled up to the bar and
looked around. Groups of people were sitting at poorly lit tables eating bowls
of popcorn and drinking beer—they weren’t eating dinner; they were drinking it!
I was directed to try the dark IPA by the barkeep, who just
so happened to be the proprietor, brewmaster, and significant other of the good
looking barmaid. Neither one of them could have been 30 years old. I doubt that
they were both 27. Everyone else working looked young, and I could tell that it
was a pretty tight knit group. The drunk hype-man on the other stool also
suggested the dark IPA. He made it clear that he was independently wealthy, had
traveled all over North America, and that this was the best spot to sit and
drink.
Then he told me about a Mexican restaurant in another town
that was the greatest spot in the world to sit and eat. He couldn’t remember
the name of it, so he looked it up on his phone, then couldn’t find it on his
phone.
I humored him and tried to look on mine but had no service. Barkeep
pointed out that this bar happened to sit in a dead spot. He had even looked
into getting a pay phone but Ma Bell doesn’t do that anymore.
The idea that this place was outside of the range of cell
phones added to the charm. It baffles me though, that anyplace in Indiana can
be out of cell phone range. I understand how the mountains of the West fuck up
cell reception, but there are no mountains in Indiana. In fact, after being
here for seven months, I am a lot more impressed with the cell service back
home. How the fuck can I get service in John Day, Oregon or Forks, Washington,
but not LaOtta, Indiana?
LaOtta is ten minutes from Fort Wayne. Ten minutes from John
Day, they’ve got bears and cougars. Ten minutes from Forks, you will end up in
some sort of shit-ass love triangle with a wearwolf and a vampire.
After the hype-man called it a night, Barkeep and I talked
about bears, and cougars, and moose. He had spent time hiking in the Idaho
panhandle and the Selkirk Mountains. He had also spent time learning the trade
in Portland. We bull shat about the places to hike in Michigan and Ontario, and
also Washington and British Colombia.
I was disappointed to have still an hour and a half to drive
because it limited me to only two beers. I nursed them so that I could hang out
a little longer. As the place thinned out, Barkeeps old lady pulled up at the
bar and helped us bull shit. I asked him about the flintlock muzzle loader that hung above
the bar. It was donated by a buddy of his and he knew little about it. He asked
if I knew guns, but I admitted that I didn’t know enough to know anything
special. He said that all he knew was that was from the 1860s and the barrel
was made of Damascus steel.
This is the point of the story where he could have pulled it
down from the bar and handed it to me, and I could have put it up to my
shoulder just to feel its bulk and history. But I will say on the record that
that did not happen because I don’t know what the laws are in Indiana about
that sort of thing, and the way the world works now, I would hate for the only
person that reads this to be some sort of left-wing, anti-gun toad-licker.
