Tonight I found myself at The Saddle Rack again. Forget the fact that it's supposedly a country bar. It's the only club of any substantial size that has a dance floor and that I don't have to drive 40 minutes to get to. That's something for a woman who likes to get out and dance now and then.
I'd met my friend Jenn for dinner beforehand, and then we boot scooted our way over to the honky tonk. Sorry, I don't have many tools in my country talk toolbox, so work with me.
The club was kind of a dud tonight, mainly because there just weren't enough people there. There's no better vibe kill than a warehouse-sized nightspot that's only 1/3 full. To be there, you feel kind of like a loser....one of only a handful of people with that dumb idea for the night.
Regardless, we were already there so we wanted to make the best of it. At one point an impromptu line dance group formed out on the dance floor, and within moments everyone who was not prepared to do that line dance immediately escaped.
Jenn and I watched for a little while, and then she said, "Go ahead on out there. I want to watch you make a fool of yourself."
"Me?" I said, "Why don't you go?!"
Only one solution.
Today's New Activity: Country Bar Line Dancing
On the far left of the dance floor was a fully outfitted cowgirl who seemed to be leading the pack. To the right of her were nearly equally skilled dancers who knew all the moves, just not how to do them quite so smoothly (or in Daisy Dukes). The middle of the pack was populated with people who mostly knew what they were doing, but who occasionally tripped up. Off to the right were the beginners, who were busy watching the others for their cues, and as a result got completely tripped up every time a turn happened and they could no longer see the leaders.
Off to the far, far right--and fittingly so-- were Jenn and I. This section was reserved for the handicapped and their service animals, the stumbling drunk, and those just too complacent to bother learning the dance in earnest, which is where we came into the whole thing.
Here's the thing about line dancing--the reason I just can't find the energy to care: I don't get what the payoff is. I mean, even if you manage to master all the moves, how is that fun? Now you are just one in a big military-like formation doing all the same moves at the same time. I mean, maybe it's the appeal of doing something right, or the camaraderie of doing something as a group that appeals to people, but I'm just not feeling it.
The thing is, have you ever seen somebody line dancing who looks like they're having fun? I don't believe I've ever seen a line dancer smiling. They actually look kind of stressed out, like it would just be the most mortifying thing ever if they were to mess up. Good thing Jenn and I got over THAT! I don't think we got a single move right. Eventually we stopped trying and just kind of shimmied around a bit, laughing at ourselves, which was fun enough.
I'll definitely be back to The Saddle Rack, just not maybe all that soon. A $15 cover charge is way steep for a hit-or-miss scene. But it's always good to succeed at dragging out my gal Jenn, who can sometimes forget she's not actually a 78-year-old shut-in. :P