LAKELAND – In the early morning hours of a late October day, closing time at the Texas Roadhouse in Lakeland, Florida took an unexpected turn as the night crew found themselves face-to-furry-face with none other than a Skunk Ape, drawn to the restaurant’s dumpster by the aroma of discarded bread and cinnamon butter.
“I went out with a couple of bags of trash like I do every night, ” says D’Andre Walker, a line cook at the restaurant. “When I got out to the dumpster, there’s all this crashing around in there, like something big is in there. I dropped the trash on the ground and ran to get the manager. Everyone came out with us when they heard how scared I was, and sure enough, the thing was out and digging at the trash bags on the ground, with a country fried sirloin hanging out of his mouth!”
Witnesses recounted a surreal spectacle as the Skunk Ape, a mysterious cousin to Bigfoot known for its distinctive aroma, looked up at the restaurant workers. For a moment, time seemed to stop, until a song came over the loudspeaker which is normally a queue to the wait staff that it was time to do a linedance for the entertainment of the customers.
“It’s just reflexive for us, even in times of stress I guess.” said Amy Bagnell, a waitress at the Roadhouse. “Without thinking, the waitstaff all started dancing our trained line dance. That creature looked at us for maybe like a second, then stood up and tried matching our steps!”
The Skunk Ape joined the staff in a lively line dance, showcasing moves that left the crew in stitches. The furry phenomenon continued its dance, drawing cheers and applause from the amazed onlookers. The Skunk Ape, showing unexpected finesse in its footwork, seemed to revel in the attention. The night air echoed with the rhythmic beats of line dancing and the occasional howl of the mysterious creature.
“He was really liking it, just the whole ordeal!” D’Andre recalled, “He was drawn in by the bread, was really digging the steaks and everything, then the dancing was just the icing on the cake.”
However, the revelry took an unexpected turn when the enthusiastic staff, in a well-intentioned but misguided effort to boost sales, bombarded the Skunk Ape with countless upselling propositions. From sizzling steaks to loaded potatoes, the crew aimed to tempt the creature with culinary delights.
“We just thought he’d enjoy our frosty margaritas or ice cold beers, not to mention our fall off the bone ribs or our crowd pleasing cactus blossoms.” Amy said. “We didn’t even get a chance to ask him if he has eaten at our dumpster before or wanted to pick out his own cut of steak.”
Much to their surprise, the Skunk Ape, seemingly not a fan of the hard sell, recoiled at the relentless offerings. With a final twirl and a speedy retreat into the shadows, the cryptid vanished into the Florida night, leaving the crew in a mix of laughter and disbelief.
As the Florida dawn illuminated the scene, the Texas Roadhouse crew found themselves recounting the fantastical night they spent line dancing with a Skunk Ape. The dumpster, once a vessel for discarded delights, now stood as a stage for this otherworldly hoedown.
In the grand tapestry of Florida’s oddities, the Texas Roadhouse Skunk Ape soirée takes its place as a cryptid caper. Once and for all, it proved that even in the land of gators and sunshine, there’s always room for a skunky dance under the moonlight, provided you don’t try to oversell your hand and just let everyone have a good time.
Jessica Cortez-Hill
