Ten Gallon Hats

I swore I would never ever do it. I was wrong. I spent last night line dancing at the Colorado freakin' cafe. The hats. the boots. the boots with jean shorts and hats! the confederate flag belt buckles.... it was overwhelming. I have a certain red neck friend, M. Its not really M's fault she's a little bit of a red neck - she's from the very top of New Jersey and there are tractors present in her home town. This is not something I understand. Where I'm from we have gangs and drug czars- there are no bails of hay where I grew up. Not for nothing - I had a WAY better time than I anticipated. And after a hand full of gin and tonics M even managed to get me out there - flip flops and all. I will never know why white people feel the need to dance in lines - but they do it well.




Anyway, I'm procrastinating calling my boss and setting up my schedule - tonight being my first night. Lets be real - I don't know shit about teaching kids how to swim. This is gonna be great.