Tonight there is a mix of sun beaten wrinkled farmers, gray bearded Harley drivers and a group of ladies, who while telling jokes that even made me blush, bought a round of drinks for the house.

Close your eyes and you are in the Gem Saloon in Deadwood.

While seated at the bar, I noticed a sign posted to the wall that reads

“First Jessica Simpson, and now Broke Back Mountain”

I was Intrigued so I asked the bartender, Rose Franco aka Franco Solis, what is the meaning behind this peculiarity.

The bar went silent in anticipation of the story to be told . . .

 

New Year’s Eve 2006:

Pancha’s was packed, the locals were out in force when in walked none other than Ms. Jessica Simpson, complete with an entourage of a camera crew, the cosmetic gang and the bodyguard.

One of the locals asks could he have a picture standing with the highly revered Ms. Simpson. She allegedly took one look at the poor chap and said “I don’t think so” while projecting a rather snotty look upon her face.

Well no one pisses off any of Franco Solis’s babies (her pet name for locals, who do incidentally keep small town hospitality venues in business during the off season), no matter who they are.

Franco Solis leaned over the bar, looked Simpson straight in the eyes and in a bellowing voice said,

“There is only room for one bitch in this bar and you are looking at her.
So get the f--k out of my bar.”

Rose Franco

Simpson, quite surprised by this turn of events, looked to her bodyguard who then asked Franco Solis to repeat what she had just said. She obliged his request. He made a motion for the crew to leave the building; he too took off, along with a dazed and confused looking Ms. Simpson.

Moments later Franco Solis received a thunderous round of applause.

A few weeks later, the bar is packed again. A number of tourists are in fine spirits and two of them are seated at the bar. A couple was deep in heavy conversation. The man confessed to his woman, wrong thing to do when one has been drinking I might add, that he had recently slept with her best friend.

The timing was bad enough, but what made it worse was the woman’s best friend was named David!

Well the young lady apparently did not take the news too well and threw several punches in the direction of her soon to be ex. One of these punches unfortunately fell upon the chin of my storyteller, which as you can imagine, did not go over too well.
I will let your mind conjure exactly what took place seconds after, but it was not pretty, that much I can tell you.

Those present tonight, including me, were rolling around with pure gut wrenching laughter as Rose was verbalizing her tales.

Rose sat down and had a drink with me. I told her I was just back from wandering around Keller’s garden’s where some of the produce for his kitchen is grown. She took me outside and proudly showed off the garden behind the bar lovingly tended by her nephew Robert Solis and husband Lauro Franco.

I ate a lemon cucumber and tomato salad with salt and Tabasco. It was not the French Laundry, but it was bloody good.

If language bothers you, don’t go to Pancha’s. If having a beverage in a smoke filled bucolic little pub full of down to earth, honest and sincere people makes you happy, you will like this place.

Just remember though, don’t piss off my friend Franco Solis.

Reporting from the valley,

CZ

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