The Dancing Fool In A Redneck Town

Okay - so it's my own fault - I moved to a 1-horse redneck town and for 5 years now, I've been trying to fit in - really I have!  It's just not my style - I am a southern California girl born and bred (enough said right there, eh?).  I'm getting really, really tired of having City Slicer written on my forehead no matter what I do here. 

One Friday night, I got myself into a bit of hot water down at the local tavern.  Fortunately, I did not become embroiled in any bar fights, though in retrospect, that might have been my first choice had I been a little more 'up' for the evening.  Instead, I found myself corralled so to speak into dancing with - wait for it - NOT the Marlboro Man (no - of course not) but instead Yosemite Sam!  Oy vey.....how do these things happen to me?

I was innocently sitting there sipping my beer after eating a 30 pound hamburger and lo and behold, before I knew what hit me, I had been volunteered to dance the 2-step - or some form of do-si-do - I never will know because the room was spinning faster than a top before I knew what hit me. 

All I can say in retrospect is that next time I venture into one of the taverns here, I'm donning a postop shoe and claiming I had foot surgery!  No way Jose am I making such a spectacle of myself again - whether I want to fit in or not!

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