When we named the place Dirty Fingers, we probably took the “Fingers” part a little too seriously.
Everything had fingers.
And I mean damn near everything.
The paintings on the walls were picked because of what people were doing with their hands. Guitar players picking. Singers pointing into the crowd. And of course Johnny Cash giving that famous middle finger.
Even the signs for the toilets were made out of fingers.
At one point I actually had an entire alphabet designed out of fingers. I was going to use it on the menus and everything else until I finally figured out nobody was going to be able to read the damn thing.
Then came the skeletal middle finger.
We put it on hats. Shirts. The bartenders wore it. Customers bought them and pretty soon giving somebody the finger at Dirty Fingers became more of a hello than an insult.
We even had a pool team called The Middle Fingers.
And damn if they didn’t win the first year.
That was Dirty Fingers back then.
We were more bar than restaurant, probably a little rough around the edges and probably pushed things a little too far sometimes. But it was clean, the service was good, and everybody was there to have a good time.
We weren’t trying to offend anybody.
We were just having fun with the name.
Eventually the restaurant changed and we toned some of that stuff down. The food became more important, the smokers moved out front, and Dirty Fingers grew into Vietnam’s Texas Smokehouse.
But those old hats, shirts and paintings are still part of where we came from.
And every once in a while somebody who was around back then will still walk in and give me the finger.
I usually give it right back.
See y'all around the smoker.
Scott