Small Town Saturday Night

I grew up in a small town in Texas. My friends and I used to frequent this dancehall called Riverside in the neighboring town. Fun times. There was a country band called the Emotions, but they also sang songs like "Regulators" and "Baby Got Back". You haven't lived until you've seen a cowboy in Wranglers with visible nutcrampage breaking down some Warren G.

There was a band playing this weekend that my parents were going to and invited me, Ryan, Steph and one of our other friends along. Ryan couldn't go and our other friend was going to a going away party* so that left Steph and I to tear it up by ourselves. When we got there, we realized the band was for our parents generation and the young people were few and far between. There was also a lot of small town fashion. We spent the first hour there playing Punch-Vest-Made-Out-Of-A-Quilt, a newer rendition of Punch Bug. At one point, an older gentleman approached our table and asked, "Would either of you ladies like to dance?" Smooooth. Go for both of us. Steph wound up dancing with him. He was a good dancer and he smelled nice but he did have on a pair of khakis with huge pleats in them. If you squeezed him, some polka music might jump out of his pants. He is obviously single. Anyway, he came to sit with us later and the only seat available was next to me. He sat for awhile and my Dad sat across from him with his arms crossed staring at him. Apparently, my dad thought he was hitting on me and said, "He is lucky he got up when he did because I was about to tell him he was old enough to be your father and he had no business over here." Some things never change. My mom and dad danced so much. It was cute as hell.

My dad did teach me how to jitterbug and it was one of the best and most terrifying experiences of my life. I am sore. I think I have whiplash. I almost dislocated a hip. It was fun though and my dad is obviously way more physically fit than I am. My dad, who smokes cigarettes and then follows them up with breathing treatments and is 20 years older than me can whup me when it comes to stamina. Good feeling.

After Riverside, Steph and I were still wide awake and decided to go for a beer at a local bar in Burr (the population there is only about 50 people). We didn't have cash and they only took local checks (wtf! they don't even have a bank there!). So we were stuck. We were about to leave when the bartender told us to hang on and then screamed out, "HEEEY T-BOOOOONE! THESE LADIES AIN'T GOT NO MONEY!" I thought we were going to get our assess kicked, but then a cowboy came up and bought us drinks. His name is T-Bone. Ok. She may as well have yelled out, "FRESH MEAT!" because the amount of time it took us to be surrounded by men was maybe .03 seconds. I saw some people I went to high school with and got hit on by a guy who I later found out was a friend of mine's little brother who was just barely old enough to be in the bar. There was a set of twins there who were 24 and one of them hit on Steph. He put on his smart, mature hat and told her, "Eventually, I want to open a hotel in Hawa-yay cept for I don't wanna lose my US citizenship." She said, "You do realize Hawaii is actually a state in the US, don't you?" and he said, "Ok, maybe Cancun then."

* The going away party entailed a bar named Al's and a booty contest. I went through some pictures from that night on Facebook and found this one. The girl has obviously teed her pants or her asshole is crying. I am not sure which. Too bad we missed out on that.