“What were you reading there when I came in?” Ian asks.

“Some lyrics. You wanna’ read ’em?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Travis opens the notebook to the spot and passes it over to Ian. Sitting, quietly sipping his beer, Travis just watches the bartender while Ian concentrates. His friend’s face is unusually serious as he reads and nods at this or that point. Ian had a way of unconciously pointing at things on a page that caught his attention, and Travis always liked it when he managed to get that reaction.

“Yeah,” Ian says, looking up.

“Groovy?” Travis asks.

“Well, no. I wouldn’t say it was groovy. But I know what you’re saying.”

“Right on.” Travis takes the notebook and slides it under his helmet on the bench.

“Bring Mary Jane out tonight?” Ian asks.

Travis nods. “This weather is perfect at night.”

“Man. I wanna’ get a bike.”

“You should get one.”

“I should at least get my license.” Thinking about it for a second, he asks, “Would you let me borrow her for the test?”

“Well, you have to go up to Gainesville or Toccoa to take the road test, so I’d have to drive up there with you. But yeah, other than that—that’d be cool.”

“Cool. I should do that this summer, while I’ve got some time.”

“You’d have to make a new fake,” Travis says, joking.

“Oh no, I put motorcycle class on mine already.”

“Really?”

“Hell, I put everything on there. I can drive an eighteen wheeler.”

Travis laughs. “I didn’t even think about that when we were doin’ ’em.”

“Ju got to tink about deez tings main,” says Ian in his Mexican accent.

Travis just nods.

“That bartender is killer,” Ian starts after a moment, leaning into the booth in confidentiality.

“She’s fine.”

“I like the way she doesn’t take shit from anybody. She looks tough, you know what I mean?”

“She made me say please for my pitcher.”

“You should ask her out.”

“No. You can’t ask bartenders out. Bad news.”

“Why?”

“Oh man, I mean, that’s gotta’ be a rule or somethin’. Think about it: you know how many people probably hit on on her in a night?

You’d have to be a helluva guy to even get her attention. Besides, I think she has a boyfriend.”

“Really?”

“I’ve seen her with a guy.”

“So?”

“They were doin’ couple stuff—you know, ogling over each other.”

“Oh.” Ian sips his beer. “Still though. Be good for practice.”

“Ah, but not the ego, Iansan,” Travis said with a polite bow.

“I gotta’ get me some,” Ian says, absentmindedly.

“Lisa not cutting it?”

Ian thinks seriously on the matter for a moment and then sighs. “No. No, things are fine. Dude, I just want a little action, you know?”

“You wanna’ flirt a little bit,” Travis offers.

“Not flirt.”

“You wanna’ carouse.”

“Yeah.”

Travis looks around the room for potential targets. “Nobody’s stoppin’ ya’ buddy.”

Ian looks around the room. “Yeah,” he says disappointedly, “yeah they are,” and then laughs.

“What? Go hit on the bartender. You said you dug her.”

“Nah. Not my type.”

“What about that one?” Travis asks casually, tilting his head backwards.

Ian leans over, not enough to be noticed. “The one by the pool table?” he asks out of the side of his mouth.

“Yeah.”

Ian leans back into the booth and makes an appraising nod. “She’s a cutey.”

“Go tell her,” Travis says jerking his head.

“No that’s too much work, dude.”

“You said you wanted some hustle,” Travis replies exasperated.

“Yeah, but I wanna’ be at a party, you know. I don’t wanna pull the old—you know,” Ian raises one eyebrow and smiles out of the other side of his face. “Hey there,” he pantomimes, licking his teeth.

“Okay,” Travis replies, “if you’re gonna’ do it that way, I definitely advise against hitting on anything with two legs.”

“You know what I mean,” Ian says. “Just some casual conversation with the feminine perspective.”

“Well, yeah. I understand that. But that’s not carousing.”

“It’s not?”

“No. That’s being a geek.”

“Oh.” Ian nods, reassured. “And you…”

“Also fall into that category.” Travis sips directly from his pitcher and offers a toast. “Here’s to being a geek.”

“Cheers.”

Read the whole thread: Carousel Cowboy