Waylon's Boy

Shooter Jennings at the Intersection

by

John Huckins 

…we sat at a side table enjoying drinks as the masses started filling the lounge area which funneled everyone past the bar into the line for the event. We’d already walked the floor before a stub had been torn to get a feel for how the night was going to play out.

It was time to relax next to the glass window overlooking the street and just let it happen. I hadn’t seen Rick in some time so it was nice to joke and catch up. We talked a bit a politics, his new job and told each other stories that only we’d believe as if neither of us had been there but indeed we both had been.

Time stood still as it does on the special nights, before we knew it the hustle and bustle had died as nearly everyone had disappeared behind the black curtains to watch the show. I glanced outside as I took a drink and noticed that Bobby E. and John might be late to their own show, as they jogged by to access the side door to the building.

I thought out load, wondering where they might be coming from on that side of town….Rick reminded me of a purple neon building just a few blocks down. Just outside our window on the curb sat a Hummer from a local radio station which was wrapping up its promotions for the evening.