Nashville has got to be one of the only places in America where you can go downtown to a bar at 1 in the afternoon on any particular day and find a singer belting out her best on stage to a crowded bar while a porn star surrounded by four greasy strip club owners drinks in the corner.
Unfortunately I couldn’t snap a picture of the porn star for fear of receiving a broken leg or two so you’ll have to take my word for it.
The city remains one of my favorites and never lets me down.
Maybe it has something to do with knowing the right people.
Nick and Kim had a connection to a party on Saturday night that they knew nothing about. All they knew is they had somebody who put us all on the list.
When we rolled up to the entrance, it hit us in the head like a Rubik’s Cube. It was an 80s party. And everyone had their bright garb on except us. We entered anyway, found our way into the VIP room, and drank free beverages for the remainder of the night.
I still have no idea how the party came to be, other than that the space was rented out. Which means it was a private party. Which means everyone probably knew each other. Except us.
How awesomely unanticipated. We left the party with half a jar of gum balls.
Tiffany and I got to meet Kim and Nick’s new dog, Ginger, who I nicknamed “G-Funk” because, other than sounding super sweet, the dog has a tendency to vomit a lot. It’s one of those little toy dogs and the thing has the amazing ability to find any candy hidden in their place and open the wrapper right down the side and middle seams, just like a human would.
The problem is that the dog’s then too stupid to realize it’s stomach can only hold about half as much candy as then dog tries swallowing.
But I guess even some humans have that same problem.
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