I will be your cowgirl

So I went to this bar called Little Red Hen last night for Ben's birthday party. Let me tell you, picking this bar was a pretty darkhorse move on Ben's part as it's a country western bar. He even created an Evite for it.
"Men don't send Evites!" I say to Tim.
"Apparently, Ben does," Tim says, ever observant.
Anyway, the Evite tell us to go to Little Red Hen on Thursday night. Make sure you've got your boots and your hat and a mustache. I am unsure if I can grow a mustache by Thursday, and I don't have a hat. I do, however, bust out the boots and some cute pigtails.
When we arrive, Ben has thoughtfully provided mustaches for all of us. Tim's looked a little too realistic. With his plaid shirt with snaps and the mustache, he could definitely pass for the Marlboro man. Or maybe a cop from Reno 911.
We get there around 8p, and our group makes up most of the people in there. About an hour later though, the place was packed and the band was ready to play. I am seriously astounded by how many people were in this joint, and ALL of them know the dance moves. Older couples, young fratty-looking guys, girls and guys on dates. Everyone is up and dancing, doing the two-step and some other line dances that seem easy but are actually kinda complicated.
You'll never believe this, but I actually got Tim on the dancefloor. Yes, THAT'S how infectious the vibe was.
We honestly had a really great time. The drinks were strong and cheap. People were friendly and didn't seem to mind that we were all wearing fake mustaches. Everyone was smiling. Hell, the band was good. They even wished Ben happy birthday and played a song for him. We're still not sure how they knew it was his birthday. I think maybe the bourbons made our voices carry.
Yeah, I'm going back to Little Red Hen. I think I want to be a cowgirl when I grow up.