Once again I have had an exciting night out with my lovely sister, Fallen Angel. I drove up to her place Saturday afternoon because she had begged me and guilted me into going with her to the rodeo dance. Yes, you read that right. We went to a rodeo dance. Not my usual type of thing, but definitely hers. She’s a little bit country, well, a lot country, and I’m a little bit rock and roll. Even though I love my old country music, I’ve never really been into the cowgirl thing like she is. That being said, she is a master at talking me into doing things like this with her. Plus, if there is alcohol and the prospect of hundreds of hot men in tight blue jeans involved, I’ll usually say yes.
So when I got to her place she said that she was going to go feed the horses and then come back in to get ready. We planned on leaving in time to go eat dinner before the dance. While she was feeding I took a shower and got all cowgirled up to the best of my ability. That really only involves putting on a lot of eye makeup, jeans, and my black cowboy boots that I only wear about once a year.
We ended up leaving about 5:30 pm. The rodeo dance didn’t start until 10pm so we had lots of time to kill. We picked out a restaurant/bar for dinner and headed that way. It took us 45 minutes to get there and once there the place was packed and there was absolutely no parking anywhere. Considering her truck is huge, that made finding parking even more difficult. We gave up on our first choice and I pulled up another restaurant/bar on my Garmin. We headed that way, but once we got close we decided it wasn’t looking like a very good neighborhood. Sure enough, once we found the place it was very scary looking and we passed it by. I went to my Garmin again to try to find another place to go eat.
Fallen Angel was starving and didn’t hesitate to remind me of that every five minutes. I eventually found a Mexican restaurant close by and that’s where we ended up. It was fairly crowded so we decided to sit at the bar and just eat there. We both ordered margaritas from the extremely cute Irish bartender. I thought I was going to have to hold my sister back from jumping over the bar and dry humping him. I also thought I was going to turn to mush every time he came over and said “Ah, that’s great. Let me know if you need anything else. Cheers.”
From the Mexican restaurant we headed over to a local Irish pub to kill some more time and have another drink. I suppose the Irish bartender had gotten us in the mood for more of a taste of Ireland. 😉 We had another drink at the pub and then my sister decided that since we still had an hour and a half before the dance, she wanted to go get her ear pierced again. She used to have a hoop through the top of her ear, but it had closed up. I Googled local tattoo and piercing shops and found the closest one which was a few miles away. It had great reviews, but other than that we had no idea what the place was like.
We hit the road and got close to where the tattoo shop was supposed to be, and then my sister said that it looked closed. The listing online said that they were open until ten. I told her to check it out anyway. That was my first mistake.
We drove all the way around this huge deserted building just to get to the side where the entrance was located. It was open so we got out and headed for the door. When we walked in we had to walk through an empty room into another room with a pool table and there were a couple of guys sitting there watching television. As we walked through we passed a small room where a man was getting tattooed. The tattoo artist asked what we needed and Fallen Angel told him what she wanted. He told her he would be with her in just a minute.
We sat down and she kept looking at her phone and occasionally looking over at me and giving me dirty looks. I tried to act cool like nothing was wrong, but to be honest, we were the only white people in the tattoo shop. So here were two white girls in the middle of nowhere on the wrong side of town. It really didn’t bother me too much, even though I did notice the strange looks that everyone was giving us. LOL Like I said in a earlier post, I am far from being a racist. I thought everything would be fine, we would get her piercing, and then leave.
While we were sitting there one of the guys got up and went into the tattoo room. We heard the tattoo artist tell the guy “Calm down! Calm your ass down!” This made my sister very nervous. Actually I think she was about ready to piss her pants, thinking someone was about to get shot. I’m not always the most observant person, so it didn’t really phase me. She was scared though and quietly asked me if I wanted to try another tattoo shop because someone was about to get shot. I said that was fine and calmly got up and walked toward the door.
Once we got outside I jokingly said, “Do you think we should run to the truck now?” She was already half way to the truck. She wasn’t wasting any time. We made it out alive and headed on to the dance because by that time we only had an hour before it was supposed to start. We were still only about 3 or 4 miles away though. It’s not like it was going to take us the entire hour to get there. Famous last words.
Less than a mile down the road we were stopped at a road block. My sister had forgotten to get a new inspection sticker for her truck so of course that was the first thing the officer noticed and he told us to pull over to the side. Fifteen minutes later he finally came over to the truck to give us our ticket, but not before running her plates and license to make sure we weren’t wanted for anything. Fortunately they didn’t run my license. LOL
Thirty minutes later we were on the road again and decided to head straight to the rodeo dance this time. We got there, got our wristbands, paid our ten bucks a piece and walked in. I swear I’ve never seen so many men wearing cowboy hats and boots in one place before. We immediately headed to the table to get our drink tokens. Six beers, four cocktails, and two shots later we were still sober, and bored to tears. The band sucked, the men were not very social, and the women looked like redneck Barbie dolls. So we decided to go to a local roadhouse instead. Going from bad to worse was not the best plan either. At least the band at the roadhouse was better and had a very cool looking bass player.
My sister did finally get a little tipsy and started dancing with random cowboys, all the while, asking what was wrong with me because I refused to dance. I’m not sure if it was my inability to get a buzz or because I couldn’t get my mind off my new boyfriend back home, but I just couldn’t get in the mood to mingle with the local bikers and rednecks. Not to mention that bar is the same one where I met the man who I cheated with on my second husband. I don’t have the fondest of memories of that place.
We managed to survive the night without getting shot or arrested so I’d call that a success.