Pour Me Another Shot of Torrential Rain and Tell The Limo Driver to Step On It

Once settled in Nashville and completely cleansed of the all-present smell of gasoline, we decided to hit up downtown Nashville. First stop was SATco (San Antonio Taco Company) for some buckets of beer and tacos. The waitress was dumbfounded that Cragin and Jihan had ordered 2 buckets of 6 beers each for us, asking "You want HOW MANY?" at least 3 times. We settled down to our liquid dinner and planned our night.

After waiting for a cab for half an hour and attempting to steal one from an angry southern girl, we finally made it to our destination: Fanfare, (the country's largest country music gathering) also known as "Redneck Riviera" We made it just in time for the torrential downpour as we stepped out of the cab. As the four of us waited under a vestibule for the rain to subside, we watched as cowboy after cowgirl passed by barefoot and/or shirtless thus confirming every stereotype these 4 elitist Northerners had about the locals.

We decided to make a run for it and got to our bar just in time for the rain to stop. No worries though because we had free shots waiting for us. Our host Colin, or as we call him, the greatest host ever, was friends with the owner of the bar, Quinn, and proceeded to feed us shot after shot after shot and drink after drink after drink for FREE. You can understand the type of damage the four of us could do when presented with this situation...Doc Hollidays Bar will be closing next month. Quinn regaled us with his fascinating research for his anthropological study on the subtle differences between sex with northern versus southern girls. He explained how northern girls are much more apt to tell you what they want or to tell you when you need to do better. Cragin and Jen reaffirmed his suspitions by simultaneously yelling out "You Better Make it Up to Me!" (Yes, northern girls are indeed more vocal and tougher to please.)

We decided to venture out of Doc Hollidays and head over to a bar called "Losers" where the patrons...are. Given that it was Redneck Riviera, cabs were hard to come by. Colin made a phone call and within minutes a black limo circa Junior Prom 1994 pulled up to drive us once again establishing himself as the "best host ever." Over at Losers the other patrons WEREN'T and we in fact WERE, and were denied entry. Blue Bar was thus our last stop and with one game of billiards and 2 shots of Maker's Mark (in this insistence shot = 1/2 a glass) we headed back to Colin's condo. Three of us slept in the guest room, one of us slept elsewhere.