Immediately the blur of neon PBR signs and the clattering of plastic beer mugs began to overwhelm me.Nor was the endless loop of Buck Owens helping. N... pleasantries were exchanged with other patrons. I was like a ghost, unseen and only heard annoyingly like the faint buzzing of a mosquito inside the ear canal. Despite being a semi-regular I always felt as out of place here as Homer Simpson at a Mensa convention. I motioned to my favorite barmaid, Lisa. She's my favorite because she laughs at. She walked up onto the small stage like Mary Queen of Scots to her execution, and sang like an angel. Bruno had arranged for Danny, the manager of the club to act as sound engineer, and the microphone made her small voice fill the club. The applause was deafening, and she smiled and curtseyed like a trouper, before running off to the ladies to be convulsed by the dry heaves. I held her tight as she retched, and dried her watering eyes before leading her back to our table. Next time I went. More

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