Page 44 of The Girl with No Name
“Yeah, I guess we should turn in,” Dunn says, but he slows as we walk down the sidewalk. “Or…” He raises a very ominous finger. “Or we could sack up and actually enjoy the night.”
“Dude, I’m still wrecked from last night,” I counter. “Those Chicago handshakes got to me.”
“C’mon. One drink. WWZBD.”
“Come again?”
“WWHCD. What would Henry Cooney do?”
Luna grins. “Yeah. One drink. He’d haveonemeasly little drink to decompress from that long drive.”
We had beers with dinner, I think, but I don’t respond as we continue our slow walk, just blocks from our hotel. I can practically feel the pillow and the sweet sleep it offers calling to me.
We pass a bar where we can hear music flowing out from the basement windows.
“One drink,” I say, reluctantly, imitating Dunn’s one-finger gesture. “Just one, and then we head back.”
“Deal,” Dunn says.
“Unless it’s, like,reallyawesome,” Luna adds.
“I’m sure it won’t be.”
10
REED
“HEAVY EYES” – ZACH BRYAN
An hour later, with about four drinks each coursing through our systems—okay, maybe more—the small dive bar pulses with energy. The air is thick with music and the collective of warm bodies moving and swaying in rhythm. Sweat glistens on our skin as we dance and sing along to an eclectic mix of cover songs. They range from “Beer Never Broke My Heart” to some deep-south country I’ve never heard. “Real country,” as Dunn calls it.
At one point in the night, I turn and ask someone what song is playing, and I’m met with a mix of incredulity and amusement.
“Awww, man, you fuckin’ serious? You never heard this song? Y’ain’t from around here, are ya?” the stranger exclaims.
Dunn, catching wind of my unfamiliarity, playfully nudges me, his laughter blending with the beat of the music. “You don’t know this one?”
“Bro, how doyouknow this one?”
He laughs. “Did you forget I lived in Louisiana while I was training for a while?”
“Oh, shit. That’s right.”
“This is Kenny Rogers, bro!”
As the night unfolds, time slips away on the crowded dance floor. Sweat trickles down my brow and then suddenly, it’s midnight again.So much for one drink.I chuckle.Oh well.
The energy in this little hole in the wall is maddeningly glorious. Girls in cowboy hats and short shorts. In the Peace Corps, I went to some rural hootenannies, but I’m remembering now how lucky I am to live in this great country. American cowgirls get down in a special way.
I go to the bathroom to see if Samantha has messaged me. Still nothing, so I step outside for a moment to call her. She doesn’t answer.
Reed: Hey! Hope you’re having a fun night tonight!
I think about trying to explain how the hell I arrived in Lexington, Kentucky. But that just feels convoluted. I hadn’t told Sam I was coming here, so she’ll be all curious, and I don’t want her to worry.
I peek back inside the club for a moment. Dunn looks like he’s in heaven, screaming the lyrics to “Family Tradition” from Hank Williams Jr. That one I know. Thank you, frat parties in rural Indiana. Give me a little damn credit here.
I step back in to blast my lungs out singing it, but then I need a break from the action, so I go back outside.