You Scream, I Scream, We All Scream for…Barbeque
I am awarding WBKR Sales Manager Traci Davis the "Golden Smoke Pit." It's a hypothetical award because it doesn't physically exist; she'll never receive anything she can sit on her desk next to the computer. But anyone who brings in Old Hickory barbecue for lunch deserves SOMETHING. Even if it's mythical. My love for Old Hickory Barbeque knows no bounds. I remember having lunch at Old Hickory with my dad as a kid.
Back then, it was a tiny little joint--I think it was blue--and it sat across the street from where it is now. But as time went by, more and more Owensboroans were craving that hickory-smoked perfection and expansion was necessary. Hence, the move across the street into a much larger facility. And, now, they've expanded even further. I don't live so far from Old Hickory that I can't smell that delicious meat cooking every single night. Lord sakes! So, hat's off to Traci. Hat's off to Old Hickory. And, hat's off to the refrigerator that now houses the leftovers. Yeah! Leftovers! Score!!!