The Good Ol’ Southern Belle

Felicia Fox, my wife, first started dancing at a club in Dayton, Ohio (under a different name) in 1992. I met her at the Dayton airport in October of 1994 — we worked together, she was driving a forklift and hadn’t danced in over a year at that point.

After we moved in together, she found her way back into the clubs, then began posing for men’s magazines, started touring nationwide as a feature act and eventually decided to break into adult films, which she continued shooting until 2005., who became a good friend and would one day serve as the best man at our wedding, was the first person she shot with in the adult biz, in Tampa back in October, 2000 Confederate Cuties #4″ contains that scene, if you’re so inclined). In 2006 she stopped touring as a feature, bought a house, and went back to school. We’re still together, still in love, and have been now for 22 years and counting.

From 1995 until 2003, my wife and I lived in an apartment in the Oregon Historic District in Dayton, Ohio. The apartment was located above Sloopy’s Bar, right at the corner of 5th & Wayne (or “Filth & Wine”, as the locals like to say), and we used to patronize many of the bars there on a regular basis. Ned Peppers, the Tumbleweed, the Trolley Stop — all were regular hangouts, but our #1 favorite spot was the old Southern Belle, on Brown Street right next to the park (don’t even talk to me about the new one over on Patterson – ugh).

So one night in 1998 we’re at the good Ol’ Southern Belle with one of Beth’s girlfriends. She and her friend were playing the bowling game, and I was relaxing in a booth, just chilling and listening to the jukebox, which had an epic selection of classic rock, the blues, and what we used to call “alternative” music. Beth, looking like a goddess in t-shirt and jeans, appears out of nowhere and sits a Bud Light in front of me, smiles and kisses me on the cheek and goes back to her game. I take a drink of my beer and when I set it back down on the table I notice a young guy, a stranger, has taken the other seat in the booth, across from me.

He was maybe 27, short dark hair, nice shirt and glasses. Clean cut, which marked him as slightly out of place in the scruffy Southern Belle. I immediately thought to myself – ‘This putz has to be a student at the University of Dayton’.

“Hey, man.” I said, smiling and trying to be friendly. “Can I help you?”

“Is that your girlfriend?” Exhibiting an attitude, right off the bat. Another joker, goddammit, and here I just wanted to sit and groove to the music and drink my beer in peace.

I nodded in Beth’s direction. “You mean Beth there? Yes, she’s my girlfriend. We live down the street.”

He looked over at her, looked her up and down, turned back to me. “Can you tell me why?”

“Excuse me?” I said.

“Why? I mean, look at me. I’m a good-looking guy. I work out. I make good money. And I’m here alone. Why would a girl who looks like that be here with someone like you?”

I laughed and said “I don’t know. Maybe because I don’t walk up to strangers in bars and ask them stupid questions.” Then I smiled and took another drink of beer.

Fuck Face just shook his head, as if in confusion, then stood up and says “I want you to remember me, asshole. I just want you to know that I’m always going to be watching you. And if you ever mistreat that girl, or if you’re ever mean to her, I’ll be waiting to steal her away from you.”

“Yeah. Good luck with that, dipshit.” I said.

“Fuck you,” he said. “You want to step outside?”

“No thanks, man — I’m not in the mood for a blowjob right now.”

“Long-haired faggot.”

“Eat me, son.”

As he walked out the door I just shook my head. Why do they always have to insult my long hair?

Beth and her friend sit down. “Who was that?” Beth asked me.

“Oh, you know me,” I replied. “I make friends everywhere I go.”

Then I smiled and signaled the bartender for 3 more beers.

145280cookie-checkThe Good Ol’ Southern Belle

The Good Ol’ Southern Belle

Share This

2 Responses

  1. That was a great bar – you could probably toss a Frisbee and hit the house that many considered to be the headquarters
    of smut this side of the country: DEN from CAVR’s home on Green St.

  2. Great story! You handled that situation like every performer wishes their man would do. Thank you for sharing 🙂

Leave a Reply