On Saturday night I went to the Broken Spoke with Kimberly.
We walked through the rustic restaurant to the dance hall which was filled with Texans wearing big belt buckles and even bigger cowboy hats.
The dance hall was enormous. There were rows of tables on either side of the big dance floor in the middle of the room. We ordered a pitcher of beer and sat down across from one another. The only thing that separated us and the couples dancing was the rail that we could lean on as we watched the couples go gliding by. The dancers would often smile at us as they passed.
Being in this place felt like stepping back in time.
Nearly every man and woman wore cowboy boots. Most of the belts worn by the dancers came complete with ornate brass belt buckles. Some people had cowboy hats on.
I watched men (some shy, most bold) walk up to women, tip their hat or hold out their hand while asking the women to dance. When she said yes then they’d whisk their chosen lady to the dance floor.
We sat there for about 5 minutes, drinking our beer and smiling at the dancing couples who would smile back at us. Everyone seemed so happy and carefree.
It was incredible.
After a few minutes of watching the dancers, I started to feel like a bit of a wallflower. I wondered if anyone would ask either me or Kimberly to dance. I had never done the Texas Two-Step but thought if I had a cowboy willing to teach me I might be willing to learn.
No sooner had this thought entered my mind when…
“Would you care to dance?” asked a man who suddenly appeared to my right.
His hand was outstretched and I smiled and said yes and he led me to the dance floor.
“I’ve never done this before,” I said shyly.
“It’s okay, I’ll teach you.” And he did.
After the song ended I sat down and Kimberly got whisked away.
Then another cowboy was by my side, extending his hand. “Care to dance?”
“I’d love to.”
And he whisked me to the dance floor.
Next I danced with Jackson who, halfway through the dance reminded me that I was to follow his lead.
“And don’t think. Dancing doesn’t work when you think about it. Let your body guide you.”
All night long Kimberly and I got whisked away. No sooner would we be seated when another man would appear and ask one of us to dance.
What I most loved about the men asking us to dance was that I didn’t get the sense that they wanted anything from us other than the chance to dance with us. It all felt very innocent and playful.
Short men were dancing with tall ladies. Old men were dancing with women young enough to be their granddaughters. Skinny men dancing with large women and vice versa. Moms dancing with their sons.
As I looked at the men and women dancing around me I really got that the Texas Two-Step wasn’t about looking good.
The Texas Two-Step was about feeling good.
Doing this dance was smile-inducing. Everyone, including me and Kimberly, had a big you-know-what-we-are-eating grin on our faces.
The amount of fun we were having by doing this dance was outrageous. Truly.
I made up my mind to say YES to every man that asked me to dance.
I danced with Jim, Jackson, Lorenzo (originally from Italy), Frank (originally from Germany), Willie and Sam.
And many other cowboys whose names I can’t remember.
Each man danced the two-step differently. Some danced fast, others slow. Some would dip me at the end. Some would twirl me. Some would not.
One guy spent the entire dance simply twirling me. Over and over. For about 5 minutes.
It was exhilarating.
Another older guy shuffled me ever-so-methodically across the dance floor. His moves were zen-like and when he walked me back to my seat I felt like I’d just done a 5-minute meditation.
What they all had in common though was their chivalry. “Care to dance?” as they’d extend their hand and their patience with me, a yankee two-step beginner.
At one point I finished dancing with Frank (from Germany) and we sat down and starting chatting about life.
“You can tell a lot about a person by the way they dance,” he said.
I agreed and then asked, “What can you tell about me?”
He looked at me for a minute, sizing me up and smiled.
“You are independent. You have a strong core. You have an inner routine that is very important to you. Yes, you are very independent but you are also very open. Open and adventurous.”
Hmm. Not bad.
Then there was Willie. Willie drank his beer straight out of the pitcher. No glass. Guess that happens a lot in Texas.
“Do you have a gun?” I asked Willie (most Texans own guns due to the law that gives Texans the right to carry concealed firearms).
“No, I haven’t had time to get one. I’ve been so busy. Been meanin’ to.”
“Do many people get shot in Texas?” I asked.
“Nah. I think people get shot less in Texas than other parts of the country because anyone in Texas could have a gun. You aren’t gonna be a jerk to someone on the highway or in a bar if ya realize he might have a gun in his pocket.”
Good point.
Kimberly and I were two of the last people to leave at closing time. We walked away from this historic Honky Tonk with big smiles on our faces and a spring in our cowboy boots.
About Me: 
