Dance (A$$) by Big Sean

It was a brisk 40 degrees in late January in Carmel, IN.  You pronounce it with the emphasis on the CAR, not the MEL, like you would in California.  I was on a work trip.  Before we left the client site, we had asked for a dinner recommendation.  The client recommended something (which was great) and then turned to his employee and reminded him that they had “sports” later that night.  I inquired which sport they might be participating in, in the middle of winter.  Somewhat sheepishly he replied:  Darts.  And beer.  Yes, I know that sounds like the punchline to the evening, but it’s important to the overall story!  My co-worker and I had just finished dinner and opted for a stroll around downtown Carmel.  As you do in 40 degree weather.  She suggested one more round, so we ducked into a bar.

It was a neighborhood kind of bar, but most noticeably to this Californian, people were smoking.  Inside the bar.  It cost me $40 in dry cleaning to get the smell out of my coat later. I go up to the bar to procure drinks and order something I see on tap. Maybe a Stella?  The bartender says they are out of it.  I try something else.  No dice.  I finally request a Coors Light.  Do they have Coors Light?!  Success!  I bring the beers over to my co worker and we cheers.  A couple polite young (very young!) Indiana gentlemen ask if we might like to play darts with them.  I look at my co worker and shrug and say I could go for some “sports”.  They look at us quizzically, but we are on.  Girls vs. Boys.  And we proceed to kick some ass. I had never played in my life, but somehow I get 5 bulls-eyes during that round.  We later swapped partners and had a completely excellent evening full of bulls-eyes, beers, hilarious conversation, and excellent music on the jukebox.  At one point in the evening, someone asked whose coat was taking up a bar stool.  I said it (the fur lined, suede, fur collar, belted jacket I bought in Spain) was mine.  He said OF COURSE it is mine.  It’s the “I’m from California and it’s going to be cold but I want to look fabulous” coat.  And that’s exactly what I was going for with it.  

We got a ride back to the hotel from the nice young gentlemen and I showed my age because there was a song playing that I had never ever heard.  It’s not really my genre and I definitely can’t play it around the kids.  It has the word Ass in the name of the song for goodness sake.  He was blasting it as we barreled down the main strip in downtown Carmel in his (jeep? I think?).  I’m still in touch with the nice young men and they definitely give the name to Midwestern manners, except I suppose for the song with the word Ass in it.