You have to start somewhere

The inaugural White Trash Tale, as with many of the other stories you will read here revolves around our lost friend Gary. You see, after he met Tonia he dropped out of sight. As is often the case with a new relationship, he didn’t have time to hang with the boys. We were amazed, however, with the speed and precision that Tonia employed in extricating Gary from our group. After only one blow-j behind the air conditioning unit at her mother’s house Gary was lost to us forever. It should be noted that, up until a few weeks ago, any Alamance County resident could receive similar treatment from Tonia for a mere $40.

Because Gary was totally off the radar we had to rely on 3^rd parties to feed us knowledge of his whereabouts. One day Bobby received a call from one of Gary’s ex-girlfriends. She had stayed close with Gary’s family long after the break-up and they had been telling her things about Tonia’s actions that she found disturbing. So she called Bobby to try and prompt an intervention.

The story she told was this: Tonia had been inviting men over to their trailer while Gary was at work. Seeing as how the trailer occupied the same land as Gary’s parent’s house and as such was in full view of said house, it probably wasn’t the most discreet thing she could be doing.

Rather than tell Gary what the love of his life was up to, his mother decided to confront Tonia directly. This altercation ended with Tonia smacking her future mother in law across the face and advising her to mind her own damn business. When Bud (of Jar Tree fame) caught wind of Tonia slapping his wife, he marched down to the trailer, kicked the door off it’s hinges, grabbed Tonia by the throat, and told her that if she ever lay hands on his wife again he would hit her so hard that it would forever ruin her only means of income (I am paraphrasing here).

Gary, upon learning of Tonia’s infidelity and mother abuse took the same stance that he would use for the great many other horrifying incidents he would endure with Tonia. That is to say that he did absolutely nothing.

After hearing this story, Bobby called me immediately to fill me in on the news. He then made me promise not to tell the rest of our group because he wanted to tell the story himself. He knew that we were all getting together for dinner later that night and it would be the perfect venue for story telling.

We all gathered at the Lone Star steak house in Burlington. It was a charming establishment where they serve roasted peanuts as an appetizer and the customers are encouraged to cast the shells onto the floor.  High class indeed for Burlington.

I was dying to tell the story after having sat on it all day but I knew I had to respect Bob’s wish to tell it himself. But Bobby, per usual, was late. And after sitting through the entire meal about ready to burst, I decided that rather than impart the story through oration I would use a story board instead. This would not be a violation of my promise to not “tell” the story.  Hey showing isn’t telling right?

Turning over my steak-stained placemat, I had the waitress supply me with a packet of crayons and I went about the task of drawing the following comic strip. (Click on the image to enlarge)

Click to enlarge

And so WTT was born. This placemat has adorned the side of Trey’s refrigerator for the past 11 years. It serves as a constant reminder that we have an obligation to you dear readers. This might have been the first White Trash Tale but there are still many more to be told.

Links:

Other stories of Gary and Tonia

No, I didn't doctor this up in Photoshop...

I can't decide which is classier...the sign pleading for more dancers or the Camaro with the homemade hood scoop...

The Paradise Club

The Shack

A sturdy foundation!

Yes, you have to go outside to open the windows.

"The Jar Tree"

You may recall reading a little about Gary, whose ex-wife Tonia was recently arrested in a prostitution/drug bust at a little redneck strip joint called The Paradise Club. Well, I’d like to back up a few years (when Tonia’s infidelity was more of a hobby than a business) and tell the tale of the tool shed/club house that Gary’s estranged stepfather “Bud” built for himself. It seems that Bud needed a way to periodically escape from Gary’s overbearing mother, without having to hop in the ’78 Chevy pickup and drive around with 13 beers on his breath. While the justification for building the shed was sound, the execution of project was anything but.

It had been a long time since anyone had seen Gary, but I wanted to get in touch with him while Jonathan was here from San Francisco so that we could photograph and document one of the finest examples of redneck architecture in the south. We needed to document this thing, because we had been telling people about this shack for years…and frankly I’m sure that everyone thought we were exaggerating.

Like some poor man’s National Geographic crew, we headed down Highway 87 in Graham, North Carolina towards our date with Redneck Americana. I noticed something along the way that nearly caused me to lock the brakes up. So I stopped the car at the 87 South Mobile Home Courts, where it seemed that the denizens of the trailer park had taken a few artistic liberties with the road sign.

Another unscheduled stop was made at The Paradise Club, which is a crude cinderblock oasis of depravity in the middle of a gravel parking lot desert. This “adult entertainment” establishment has a long been associated with acts of violence (murder) and a general lack of dental hygiene (missing teeth). I couldn’t resist the allure of taking a photo of the sign begging for dancers…and little did we know that Gary’s wife Tonia had not been able to resist the sign either.

Before we could see Bud’s masterpiece, we had to stop and pick up our tour guide…Gary (whose trailer was about half of a mile away from Bud’s dwelling.) When we stepped inside Gary’s trailer, I couldn’t help but notice the K-mart car stereo that was installed in the wall. I desperately wanted to take a picture of this innovative home theater system (especially since its mounting was slightly askew), but I couldn’t get away with it without being seen by Gary and/or the unknown cohabitants of his trailer.

After a few awkward minutes at Gary’s, we finally made our way down the dirt road to Bud’s shack. It had been several years since I had gazed upon Bud’s creation, and to my delight, it was still standing. The first thing you’ll notice from the photos is that the exterior is haphazardly covered in tree bark. This was done in order to give the impression that the structure is a log cabin. Now if you ever built Lincoln Log cabins as a kid, you’ll recall that the wall logs run horizontally. This lesson was lost on Bud.

We were directed to pay close attention to the cinderblock foundation. Evidently, there was no need for mortar! It would be entirely possible to kick the foundation at any point, and bring this thing down. If you look at the back right foundation “pillar”, you’ll notice some sort of shim placed between the floor of the shed and the cinderblocks. This was done in order to level the floor. You might ask…“How did that get there”? Answer: The whole structure was lifted up and someone slid broken bricks in the gap.

Gary was grinning ear to ear when he pointed out the window installation. He applauded the effort that it took to put real windows in the shack, but he could barely contain his laughter when he told us that if you wanted to raise the windows (or lock them), you’d need to go outside to do so. Yes…the windows were installed backwards.

I am still kicking myself for not taking a photo of the front door. I don’t know how I forgot, because the door itself was the crowning achievement of the whole project, and a testament to Bud’s redneck ingenuity. You see, when Bud constructed the frame of the structure, he did so without planning for the door. He literally put up four particle board walls and realized that there was no way for him to enter his vacation home (which is 300 feet from his real house). He was able to get around this minor snafu by sawing into the wall until something resembling a rhombus was cut out.

I would be remiss if I failed to mention the work of art beside Bud’s shanty. Gary’s mother decided that it would be a good idea to plant a dead tree in the yard and place Mason jars on the sawed off limbs. I don’t know what to say about “The Jar Tree”, except that I feel that its aura combines with Bud’s shack to create a wonderful White Trash synergy…a degree of redneckness that is greater than the sum of its parts.

A nice place to visit but you wouldn't want to go there.

Looks like Tonia “Babydoll” Pennington has as much trouble keeping her mouth closed as she does her legs. After being arrested at her place of work, the Paradise Strip Club, my friend’s ex-wife was charged with 14 counts of violating a local ordinance/adult entertainers; eight counts of a clothing violation; seven counts of sexually explicit behavior; five counts of violating a local ordinance by an owner/operator; two counts of conspiracy to sell and deliver cocaine; two counts of selling and delivering cocaine; possession with the intent to sell and deliver cocaine; and two counts of possession of drug paraphernalia (whew that was a mouthful).

She has now gone on record about her exploits with an official publicly posted affidavit that can be read in its entirety here: Download PDF Baby Doll’s Affidavit

It reads like a slutty syllogism so I will sum up the highlights for those of you with short attention spans and a lack of Adobe Acrobat.

Ms. Tonia Pennington

1. I am a resident of Alamance County, NC.
2. For the last eleven years, I have worked periodically as a bartender at the Paradise Club.
3. Ronald Lee Davis is the owner of the Paradise Club.
4. Ronald has a reputation for engaging in sexual activities with the dancers in exchange for money at the property.
5. On several occasions, I have engaged in sexual intercourse with Ronald Davis that the property in exchange for money.
6. On several occasions, I have danced nude in front of Ronald Davis while he masturbated at the property in exchange for money.
7. Each time I engaged in a sexual act with Ronald Davis at the property, he ejaculated (editor’s note: a 100% completion rate is something to brag about.)
8. On one occasion, Ronald Davis paid me $100.00 to engage in a sexual act with him at the property.
9. I have seen cocaine sold on the property.
10. I have seen dancers fighting inside the Paradise Club (editor’s note: that must have been awesome to watch.)
11. Further your affiant saith not (editor’s note: that is fancy talk for she finally shut up.)

It should be noted that the other two affidavits accompanying hers were much less forthcoming. You have to hand it to the girl, she tells it like it is. We will keep you posted as the story develops.

Links:

Our previous story on Baby Doll featuring video of her spectacular arrest

DigTriad news article about the Paradise Club closure

Paradise Lost

Long has this cinder block shack been the bane of Alamance County. My father even admitted to being in attendance at least once back in the 70’s when it went by the more artistic title “The Green Door”.  The Paradise Club was now a member’s only den of inequity for gentlemen that enjoy thrusting dollars at the bottomless skanks too wretched to make it in the comparatively higher-class strip joints of the greater Greensboro area.

Catching wind of the bust, my mother pulled up the article on the Daily Times News website and asked me to read it aloud to the family. I was more than happy to engage in this perverse version of children’s story time even though I was disappointed by the paucity of appropriate pictures to accompany with the words.

Baby Doll and her cohorts offer their services to a deputy before being hauled to jail

What started out as a fairly straight piece of factual reporting: 703 charges levied against 12 people, 50 sheriff’s deputies with 3 search warrants, $40 for a blow job $100 for around the world; quickly turned into the gossipy type of journalism that one can only find in the small town press. The reporter saw fit to include every aspect of the day’s events. Including remarks about how the deputies had banned him from using his cell phone and pager (just in case the raid bent the space/time continuum backwards to the 80’s) as well as seemingly irrelevant observations such as the following:

“Shortly after the sheriff’s department arrived on scene, several dancers were taken into custody. One, known as “Baby Doll” was pulled out of a trailer by Maj. Tim Britt, placed on the ground on her belly and handcuffed. While on the ground crying, a dog on the property riled up by the activity defecated beside her.”

Pulitzer worthy reporting to be sure. It was at this point I remembered that my friend Gary’s ex-wife  Tonia had at one time worked as a stripper in that part of the county and I thought that there was a high possibility that she might have indeed been an employee of the illustrious Paradise Club.  It wasn’t, however, until later that night did I find out that Tonia Marie Pennington not only worked at the Paradise but she also went by the name Baby Doll!

Yes, Gary’s long time lover and mother of his 3 children was THE Baby Doll that had the misfortune of being dragged from her brothel/trailer, hand-cuffed, placed face down in the dirt of the Paradise Club parking lot, and shat upon by an incontinent pooch that was overly excited at the prospect of perhaps playing fetch with a bevy of police deputies.

To add entertainment to injury, the Daily Times News posted video of the entire proceedings placing particular emphasis upon Baby Doll’s malodorous adventures.

Original Video: Baby Doll Busted

I would like to say that the news saddened me is some way but I really can’t. Long  have I told friends tales of my time spent growing up in rural North Carolina. Often they were so outlandish that I was dismissed for exaggerating. It was a great relief to have been vindicated by the above video. It was all true fellas. Every word of it.

We at WTT have so many stories of Gary and his poorly chosen partner that it will literally take years to recount them all. But it seems fitting to inaugurate this site with the latest tale of Tonia’s woe.  We promise to keep you all up to date as the news of her arrest/trial/and possible imprisonment unfold.

Links:

Burlington Daily Times News Article on “Trouble in Paradise”

Video of Baby Doll’s Bust