Wastin’ Away Again in Country Geezerville

We were in the mood last night to go listen to a band. So I checked the local listings and there was one playing at The Jukebox at 9pm. But they had more of a rock sound, and the preference was something a little more country. I ran across the name of a guy I’d never heard of before playing at a small local pub I’d never been to before. The good news was he started at 8pm and the investment was small so we figured we’d check him out. If he turned out to be good, great. Otherwise we move on down the road to The Jukebox.

As we stroll in the place, it’s suddenly obvious that we are the youngest patrons by at least 20 years. I am not making this up. You have never seen such a collection of polyester and bolo ties. The bar maid (matron?) said the place tended to draw an “older crowd”, and then quipped there would be walker races in the parking lot later that evening. I mean, we should have known something was up when the bar special was Pepsi.

Still, the band was just setting up and it was too early to head to the 2nd venue just yet. When the band started, it was like somebody put the cardio paddles on these folks. Up they popped and headed to the dance floor. One couple had clearly taken a few country swing dance lessons and were floating nicely across the floor. Although she had nice footwork, her face was set in a scary stone scowl. If this was an expression of fun, I’d hate to get her mad. There was a table of women in swishy pant suits near the door who proved to be quite popular. The old guys would teeter over there and ask them to dance, hold them close for 3:20, and return them gently to their seats. And then there was Cowboy Bob. Brown poly pants, a red western style shirt, turquoise bolo tie, and a cowboy hat with lots of geezer bling on it. He was like a wind-up toy out there, just twitchin’ and two-steppin’. Actually, it was more like n-stepping, where “n” equals however many steps his feet happened to take at the moment. You see, Bob had a lot of enthusiasm, but no discernible sense of rhythm.

The music was passable, but as a people watching place, it was ‘da bomb’. Still, Kim could only flirt with so many cute little old men as they came to the bar for another round of Diet Pepsi, so after a fashion we did head on down the road. It was quite an experience though.

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