When I was a freshman in college I took my one and only trip to DC's country Junction! It was a metal warehouse thirty minutes down a country road into the middle of nowhere in a corn field. The parking lot consisted of some gravel thrown down to stop the mud from spreading everywhere. The music can be heard far and wide....given that it is the only music for twenty miles.
There were about 20 of us that went. We walked in and the dance floor was covered with men in undershirts, tight jeans, and cowboy hats and boots. In short, country MEN! There were haybails for sitting on and the music was up so loud that you couldn't hear a rooster crow. The bar was filled with smoke, he-hawing, and remarkably...babies! There were so many babies on mama's hip that I lost count. Now this was a line-dancing bar, but this was not ordinary line dancing! They jumped, kicked, fliped, and literally leaped over eachother all in perfect rhythm and timing. It was crazy and intimidating. I tried dancing to a few songs, but I primarily watched in amazement.
Eventually the smoke got to me and the hay bails got to my friend Michael's hay-fever. We went and breathed fresh air at the door before continuing our festivities. Remarking at the couple fighting in the parking lot...and the other one making out. It was a night not soon forgotten...over at DC's Country Junction!
No comments:
Post a Comment