Cowboy called. He waived the "3 day rule" and called that first Sunday night after Bushwhacker's. I talked to cowboy a couple times last week and we went out last Saturday night. He picked me up in a shiny, new, red truck, took me to dinner at Outback, and then we went out ... c'mon, you'll never guess where???? Bushwhacker's!! Going to a bar like that and actually being with someone who knows how to dance, likes to dance, it's such a novel concept for me I almost didn't know what to do.
Then I realize I have been to the same bar three Saturday nights in a row plus at least once a month since November. The bouncer knows me by name, other people that I've only ever seen at the bar say hello, and a few people actually came up to give me a hug. Oh no, I'm a regular.
The people watching was not quite as entertaining as weeks prior (i.e. no bedazzled trolls) but I do have a few pointers for people. If you get a boob job, you are still required to wear a bra or at least a shirt thick enough that if you're nipped out when its 80 degrees, I don't have to see it. Flip flops and country dancing don't mix - 'nuff said. I don't think anything will ever top the bedazzled troll and almost everything pales in comparison.
The night came to an end and cowboy brought me home but he didn't leave till the next morning. It was dark (and I still haven't bought a table lamp for the bedroom) so I don't have a clue whether it was briefs or boxer briefs. I know he doesn't wear boxers because his Wrangler's were too tight for that. And no, I didn't think to look in the morning. Maybe I'll find out next time girls.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
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