While Brad is living it up clubbing in St. Louis, I’m hitting the country bars here in good old Kirksville. After going to the Gold Spike for Karaoke Night a few weeks ago, I had to admit to myself that I was hooked and needed a fix. I meet up with some of the folks from the theatre dept. and proceeded to “boot skoot boogie” (whatever the hell that means) all night.

This is a very interactive karaoke crowd. I love how everyone jumps out on the dance floor when their favorite songs are played. I think I might have pissed a few dancing romantic couples during my rendition of I Swear (John Michael Montgomery) when I broke out into the monologue I had prepared about a boyfriend stalking his girlfriend. I redeemed myself later by singing Copacabana, which I have treated a fellow blogger to (Agent 812) in the past.

Later, the folks I was with raised a ruckus by shooting each other with water guns. I came to the realization that I was sitting with (and thus part of) the local color.

I have to admit I had a hell of the time and I even learned part of a country line dance. Can cowboy boots and a ten-gallon hat be far behind?