I am excited about THE COWBOY PLAN–it came to be one night after Ames and I went to a concert. We ALWAYS valet the vehicle and stand with the other herd of concert goers after the last encore. One August night, my van pulls up and I am tipping the valet dude. What to Ames and my surprise happens to be pulling out onto the street next to us… The singer’s bus. I kid you not.
Being the wild and crazy gals we are, we follow it. To What-A-Burger–well, the bus actually parked in front of a vacant strip mall–it didn’t fit in the WAB lot, you see.
The two wild and crazy gals decide to go into What-A-Burger to see if the country hottie is jonesing for a burger, but much to our dismay, there’s three or four peeps in line and not the crooner. *le sigh*
Ames is in the bathroom and I am patiently waiting in line. So this dude two people up moves. He wasn’t very tall (Don’t get me wrong, he’s way taller than me, but when you’re used to seeing someone on stage–like 8 or 9 times–four feet in front of you… is way diff) and his ball cap had seen better days–which was totally hot. My eyes bugged out. Guess who. Yep. My country crooner in the oh-my-god-can-I-touch-you-flesh.
He orders and stands off to the side to wait for his food. At this point Ames joins me and I casually (not stalkerish at all) point him out to her and we order and move to wait. I feign fascination in the quarters in my hand–it was a state I didn’t have–my jellified backbone barely held me up much less gave way for me to attack. Ames goes to get her drink–RIGHT NEXT TO HIM and can’t work the machine. There is NO WAY IN HELL I am coming any closer to him to help her so I roll my eyes and stay firmly planted ten feet away–in chickenshitland.
A little teeny-bopper is not so star-struck as the two of us were and waltzed right up to him and asked for his autograph. Yeah, I totally sucked.
My order comes up and I get within two feet. Did I fondle or grope him as I really wanted to? Nope. I pretended I didn’t give one hoot who he was. Path-e-tic.
Ames and I both have our stuff and head to the van. Of course, he comes out shortly there after and heads to his bus. I bet you’re asking yourself: what would any chickenshitlandeite do at this point? I crank up his CD–to which Ames ducks so I look like a fool all by my lonesome. DOH! As his bus takes off, my courage came back and we followed him for a few miles–we are not so terribly pathetic to keep going and going–plus we knew his next concert was in North Dakota or something and I didn’t have a change of clothes in the van.
Anyhoo… The very next day I am berating myself for not at least saying, “hey”. So I did what any self-respecting author would. I re-wrote what SHOULD HAVE happened. And to my warped mind, that was me spilling a milkshake all over him and getting to talk to him …… and that dear readers is how THE COWBOY PLAN was born.
