Welcome! I can see you’re looking around at all the characters in our saloon, so let me tell you about some of our regulars.

See the gorgeous lady over there? That’s perennial ryegrass. She’s a supermodel and an A-List actress, the timeless beauty. Maybe you’ve seen her on TV, in big football games and soccer games. And to think she was once an ugly, awkward teenager in the 1970s. But she gets sick when she travels to a hot or humid climate.

Kentucky bluegrass is well built and well dressed in an understated hipster suit with a clean haircut and a perfect shadow-beard. He’s so hip that he attends SXSW every year. He Ubers, he doesn’t taxi. He’s rich, and his family has old, quiet money. The Bluegrass family were early industrialists from the Northeast. They own real estate all over the northern half of the country and all the way up into Canada.

Bermudagrass is the star quarterback of the football team. He grew up surfing the big waves, getting a tan and ruling the gridiron. He’s the big man on campus, at least for two years, when he’ll be replaced by a new and better bermudagrass and summarily forgotten because he “can’t play well in cold weather games” (an unfair tag, by the way).

Tall fescue sits in the middle of the bar. She grew up on a large Montana ranch and can work all day in the heat without a water break, and doesn’t mind the cold. She really is a well-rooted grass if you get to know her, but she’s a little rough around the edges.

Poa annua is like one of the Kardashians. She’s everywhere, all the time, but no one really knows what the heck she does, other than live off the Bluegrass family money, travel the world and hang out at golf courses. She can out-drink everyone and it shows in her poor health. She sometimes brings her sister Poa trivialis with her, but “Triv” can’t handle her liquor very well and usually passes out early. She’s a shallow grass that few like, and she’ll go out with whoever is drunk enough to take her, even the weeds.

Fine fescues are clumped together in the darker part of the bar. They’re the wiry Seattle coffee-drinkers that took the light rail here to the Turfgrass Saloon. They’re nice and don’t ask for much, but you have to keep an eye on them. I heard they staged some big protest on TV that disrupted the U.S. Open last summer at Chambers Bay.

Paspalum is bermudagrass’ older, smarter sister. She is a successful and salty businesswoman and has made millions in the Pacific Rim markets. She loves the beach, but don’t ask her to go skiing.

The Turfgrass Saloon is also home to a tough street-gang of weeds. Crabgrass hangs with goosegrass, quackgrass, orchardgrass, velvetgrass, barnyardgrass and all the other grassy weeds. They feel they have few opportunities in life and resort to crime. I heard they are run by the infamous mobster, Hairy Ligule, but I’ve never seen him in here.

The farm boys and outdoor types include the wheatgrass boys, the brome boys, and buffalograss, who owns a small ranch in western Nebraska. They take care of themselves and live off the land. Blue grama is the tough, smart old lady from the high prairie who actually grew up on a homestead in Oklahoma. She’s the one by the pool table getting hit on by kikuya grass, an aged, leather-tanned southern California star who hasn’t worked in years.

St. Augustine grass is a fat retiree living in subsidized housing in the Deep South. He mostly just hangs out on the lawn drinking water.

Carpetgrass and centipedegrass are a nice married couple. They’re poor sharecroppers from the Southeast. They don’t need much to be happy.

Thanks for coming in to the Turfgrass Saloon.

See you next time!