Trouble In Hell

As a dabbler in the macabre, I’ve always been tempted to go to Hell. It’s not that far--probably 20 miles northwest of Ann Arbor. It’s a very small dot on the map, just west of Pinckney. Just think. I could brag to everyone that I’ve been to Hell and back.

I’ve heard they sell a few souvenirs in Hell. Like the post card that shows an elderly man and woman driving in their car, approaching the road sign that says “Entering Hell” or something like that. The post card shows the exasperated woman shouting at her lost husband, “Now will you check the map???”

A business owner in Hell decided to throw a party last week on Tuesday, 06/06/06, a number associated with Satan. The entrepreneur didn’t know if anyone would show up for his party since he didn’t advertise. And word of mouth can only go so far in this hamlet of about a hundred people.

Well, word got out to the media. Between eight and twelve thousand people arrived to celebrate. Extra police had to be called. And the residents of Hell? Well, Hell never hath (hadeth) such fury.

Complained one local resident, “People move out here to get away from it all. It's really nowhere. So what if it just happens to be called Hell? Three or four people use it as an excuse to get rich, but it's at the expense of everyone who lives there. It's just inconsiderate.”

Inconsiderate? I never thought of Hell as someplace to get away from it all. You would think that if people wanted to raise a little Hell in Hell, well, what the Hell? But I guess if you do, there’ll be Hell to pay. The township supervisor says if they’re billed for the extra police protection required of the Sheriff’s department on 06/06/06, they’ll send the bill to the business owner who thought a party in Hell was a Hell of an idea.

Anyway, I have to tell this story about the bar in Hell called the Dam Site Inn. I haven’t been there, but a significant other in my life has (I won’t name names since she thinks I pick on her too much already). But this lady was cut off/refused service there for her rowdy behavior one night many, many years ago.

One offense was to publicly point out a man in the bar who she said resembled Jesus. That was enough to spook the locals. “No more beer for you, dearie.” Getting kicked out of a bar in Hell is probably not something one would want on his or her resume when they arrive at the Pearly Gates.

But let this be a lesson to all of you. If you go to Hell, you’d better behave.