A Typical Night

Look there. Tight jeans caressing that cute butt as he walks across the floor. His white western shirt is open at the neck showing the country boy tan line that he proudly wears like a cherished necklace. His overused cowboy hat perched upon his head like a crown. Every eye in the bar turns and watches him walk across the floor. The ladies eating him alive as they wish they were beside him, some men thinking I used to look like that. I see anticipation in the eyes of the ladies as the music begins. Pick me, they whisper, pick me.

Here's come another. Cut-off t shirt, blue jeans and work boots. One leg of the jeans is pulled up by the top of one rough looking work boot. He doesn't even notice or even care. In one pocket of his jeans is his skoal can making that fabled ring protrude. His cap is pushed back on his head showing tufts of thick wavy hair and a sunburnt face. He walks through the crowd clapping others on the back. As he gets to the bar he looks up and down acknowledging each person there. This is a happy fellow.

Then comes every bodies favorite clown. The door bursts open and in come the one who yells Howdy Ya'll, the next round is on me! Of course everyone knows he never pays but, it's so much fun to watch him. He seems to know everyone. Even folks who are new to the place. There is no stranger to him. He plays a game of pool between each band break and dances every dance. By the end of the night he's lost his hat to some girl he's danced with. His friends find it and place it back on his head as they walk out the door at the end of the night.

No matter how many times I sit at this bar and watch the people walk in. No matter how many pretty words I hear, I know I have not found the one to spend the rest of my life with. I have made many friends (and friends only) I talk to. But, the one who brings chills up my spine when he speaks to me or the one in whose eyes I get lost in has not come into my life. And I know He may never walk into my life but, I won't give up. That's just not in me.

(This bar is in AR. I haven't found one in IA yet. But, I haven't given up looking yet.
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Comments (2)

your narrative sure brings a vivid picture to mind...I used to go to a bar like that when I lived in Slidell, Louisiana. Who would have thought that a full latina like me will end up liking Reba and Steve McGraw and back in the day, Billy Ray Cyrus, Oh, lord!

I didn't find the love of my life there, but heck, did I have fun! And I met really nice, lovely people and very nice and very polite men, these country boys being nicer and way more polite than the men at other clubs.

So, for now, put on your nice jean mini-skirt and neat top...wear your fancy boots, have a Miller Light Genuine Draft, and line-up...go have a ball! He'll find you dear...

hug cheers
Luv the blog, almost set my feet tapping.wine
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created Apr 2010
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