(Exercise: Describe a setting where you’ve never been before.)
The exterior of the nightclub was as ugly as I’d imagined.
As my friends approached the line, I lagged behind, trying to mask my contempt for everyone in my view. The bouncer annoyed me instantly, acting like the gatekeeper to some sort of wild west portal. He wore a cowboy hat that was big and off-yellow, probably a steal from The Dollar Store or a souvenir from some glorious Texas trip or something. He was old and greasy looking, abnormally tanned for September, wore scuffed cowboy boots and a black T-shirt with the ugly ‘Ranch’ logo on it. He tucked his shirt into his jeans, revealing the slight outline of a beer belly. I swear all that was missing was a piece of straw hanging from his mouth.
The people waiting weren’t much better. The girls were applying lip gloss every few seconds as they moved up the line, legs bending awkwardly from their heels. The guys seemed to be in packs, and were dressed in button up plaid shirts – hair gelled and perfected, eyes blazing with anticipation. I shuttered with dread.
That bastard door guy better let me in.
The only reason I was here was for my best friend’s birthday. For god knows what she reason, she loved country, and this contrived nightclub was where she wanted to go. She’d hate me if I made up an excuse to stay in or faked sick, again… But it was time. Time to endure an earful of – “Keith Urban” all night?
If I hear Taylor Swift I’m leaving.
When we eventually got in, it was almost exactly as I had imagined. The walls were wood paneled and covered with neon Budweiser signs, some other framed Western type pictures- it was difficult to see and honestly I didn’t look very hard. The dance floor looked ideal for square dancing, and a random disco ball hung from the ceiling – right above a live band who were belting out country covers.
But most visually enthralling was the huge electronic bull in the corner of the bar. I made a mental note to continually look over – wouldn’t want to miss a drunk girl go flying off that thing.
My friends disappeared to the bathroom together but I decided that getting a beer was priority.
“I’ll take a Heineken. A Heineken. Hei-ne-ken!” I had to practically yell for the bartender to hear me. Of course I got the bleach blonde one wearing bootie shorts. (I was hoping for the tanned guy wearing a pooka shell necklace, oh well.)
I suddenly felt incredibly awkward- I sure as hell wasn’t going to go dance and my friends were long gone… so I decided to sit down.
The booths were covered entirely in cow hyde – ew I hope that’s fake – and most were filled with couples making out, passed out people, texters, girls who were ranting to their friends about some sort of dramatic episode. I was about to turn around when I noticed a guy wearing all black sitting in the corner. He looked as uninterested in the environment as I was. He looked up at me, but I quickly looked away.
Just find somewhere to sit now.