Boot Scootin'

This past weekend it was girls night out for some country line dancing. The husbands were left at home (that was easy for me) and we headed over to Jersey to Prospectors. Now, yes, on the surface it does seem like an oxymoron to say Jersey and country in the same sentence. But this place was not hurting for business. And no, they didn't play club music in between sets of country. It was straight up country all night. Yee haw!

Now I don't know if it's due to the wedding ring on each of my friends or what but no young cowboys (urban or otherwise) asked any of us to dance. The only ones who did were these old men. No, not the sleazy old bar hopping going through a mid-life crisis need to dance with younger women type of old men but old men nevertheless. I was boot scootin' around with this guy but I was missing by boogey. Dancing with an old man can do that to ya!

That is, until they finally played a line dance that I knew. Once that Tush Push came on my inner country cowgirl came out and I got my boogey back. I lost it again after that song was over but whatever; I relished it while I had it.

We did dance other line dances but it's not the same when you are trying not to run the person over next to you or step on someone's toes as you are trying to learn a dance. We tried to spot the people in the crowd who knew what they were doing and follow them. At times it worked and at times, let's just say not so much.

Although I didn't meet a cowboy (or any guy for that matter) we did have a fun girls night out. We got to party 'til the cows c[a]me home, boot scootin' all the way.