Country Bars and Yeah, I've Seen Coyote Ugly Too

So I have to tell you about my first night out in Atlanta. A friend of my cousins was having a night out for her birthday. So she decided that she wanted to hit this country bar called Cowboys here in north Atlanta.

Originally, I was going to stay in. I've been unpacking and getting settled in for like 4 days straight. The burden of being one of those unfortunate few for whom those "become a medical assistant" or "drive the big rigs" commercials is aimed at is also beginning to take a toll. These 2 things together don't make the Devil the most agreeable deity these days. A little cajoling and I agreed to go out.

Now, I've been to country bars before. After all, in my hometown with a metropolis sized population of 7000, there is pretty much only a country bar there. Yes, the Devil can two-step and even Cotton Eyed Joe (the latter thanks to the nuns at Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic School and their idea of physical activity). So I thought I wasn't completely unprepared for the spectacle I was to see.

Apparently, the bar is an older crowd. Not a problem for me, but it is a problem for those dancing. Every single song had a group of about 20 people line dancing. Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't this craze die out when people realized "Oh shit, I actually bought a Billy Ray Cyrus record"? They played "Walk This Way" a la Aerosmith/Run DMC and these people were fucking line dancing!!! Nothing is sadder than watching a group of people line dance and really, really get into it. They were incorporating spins and so on ...... quite the spectacle.

It wasn't all bad dancing by the spurned. The female bartending staff was definitely selected for their physical attributes. Now, they did have some real bars where you could get a Maker's & Coke. But these gals were selling nothing but beer at huge tubs. Not a bad idea, but I noticed that each tub had a platform behind it. So naturally, the girls all get up on the platform at various times of the night and start shaking their freakish huge tits and gyrating unnaturally small waists.

I'm not complaining, mind you. But after a couple of hours, it become pretty cheesy. It was that sort of "air-brushed rose license plate with a name" cheesy. It was that sort of 80's hair cheesy. But then again, maybe that is why I enjoyed myself so much; it was like a trip back to my kitschy 80's ... only countrified.