I was really getting used to driving the big truck around. When you stepped down from the passenger side wearing your pearl snap button shirt, you looked like a beautiful local.
As we walked to the front of the roadhouse, a woman with long, blonde hair opened the door for us as she was leaving. She was wearing a shirt similar to yours and gave us a big smile as we walked through the door. When we were inside you gave me a poke in the side.
“What? Who says you are the only one who gets to have cow people fun when we are out here? She smiled at me. Was I supposed to frown back at her?”
You gave me a look and smiled as we walked into the bar. I wasn’t really sure what a roadhouse was, but I would have just called this place a bar with a kitchen. There were about 20 tables and a long L shaped bar. We found a table near the back and took a look at the menus. This was my kind of place. The menu was almost all beef. Even the salads had steak on them.
The bar was about half full and when our waitress arrived. It was clear that she was a bit haggard. We both ordered a beer and a steak. When in Rome we agreed. There wasn’t saw dust on the floor, but it wasn’t too far off. Most of the people sitting at tables were in couples, but the bar was certainly more male. I was one of the few men in the place not wearing a cowboy hat and we made several jokes about any future “Carlos” candidates.
It felt great to be out in the world again, even if it was a different world than we were used to. Our steaks arrived and we ordered more beer. As we ate, we talked and laughed about how crazy it was that we were eating in a roadhouse in Alberta surrounded by Cowboys. The steaks were amazing as was the company. We hadn’t spent any time together in so long and it just felt right.
You ordered dessert and another beer. I sat back and marveled at the strength of the little pearl snaps. They wouldn’t budge even after I had been summoning all of my mental focus on them to open for the last hour. Turns out, the force was not very strong in me.
As you ate your dessert, the bar filled up and there was even a bit of a line forming at the door. We decided after you finished your beer, we would give up our table and head back to the cabin.
You headed to the washroom as I paid the bill. After several long minutes waiting for you at the door, you emerged from the back corner looking flushed and smiling broadly. You waved me over toward the bar and said “You are not going to believe this.”
You took me by the hand and led me toward the washrooms. As we turned the corner leading to what I thought was just a hallway leading to the washroom, I saw a separate back room. When I stepped in, the first thing I saw was Billy standing in the doorway.
“There you are! How was your dinner? I was just back here with my friends when your wife walked by. Can I get you a beer?”
I accepted and looked around the room. There were ten or so people all drinking and playing darts. Billy returned with two beers and led us over to a group of five guys.
“Come on over and meet my friends. Most of them are pretty harmless.”
All of them looked like they came from the same casting agency as Billy. He introduced us to “Sam”, “Benny”, “Shooter”, “Johnny-O” and “Bobby”.
We all played hockey and baseball together when we were younger. We still play, but only in a beer league now. Johnny-O got called up to the Carolina Hurricanes for a couple of months and a couple of us bounced around in Juniors, but that was as far as any of us made it. Now we just hang out here, play darts and shoot the shit about the glory days like we’re livin’ in some Bruce Springsteen song.”
All the guys said hello and nodded. Johnny-O came over and said “You must be the lawyer out from Toronto.” He looked subtly at your shirt and added “Hammer told us about you.”
I looked puzzled at Billy and asked “Hammer?”
“That’s what the guys all call me. It’s a hockey team thing. We all used to listen to the Black Eyed Peas during warm ups and some of the guys started calling my Will I. Am. Then it turned to “Hanmy” and eventually it just morphed into Hammer.”
The guys started laughing and Bobby shouted “Plus Jenna wouldn’t stop talking about that big tool you always brought to the job!” Then they really all started laughing. Everyone except Billy. He gave Bobby a look and turned to us and smiled.
“Don’t mind them. They’re just having a bit of fun at my expense. You two want to throw a few darts with us?”
You chuckled and I’m sure you thought about how we traveled thousands of miles to the middle of nowhere and I still found a way to play darts on a Thursday night. Of course, I agreed to play.
You told Billy you would be happy to drink your beer and just watch. Both he and Johnny-O said they would sit with you while I played with Bobby and Shooter.
Shooter must have had a hell of a slap shot, because he sure didn’t get his nickname from throwing darts. Bobby was kind of crass and I got the feeling that the other guys just kept him around out of obligation of knowing him since they were kids.
We were having a fine time playing, but I was a little distracted by watching you and the obvious two leaders of this gang.
Johnny had the look and moves of a guy who had worked the puck bunnies from one end of the country to the other. He certainly expected the girls to chase him, while Billy seemed to be much less of an operator.
The three of you were sitting on barstools around a small table about fifteen feet behind the darts area. Every time that I stepped to the oche, my back was to you and I wondered what I was missing. Your very distinct laugh was carrying through the little back room and it was clear that you were having a great time with the cowboys.
My mind was racing thinking about your admission from earlier about watching Billy’s dick get hard through his jeans. Were you wondering about why the called him “Hammer”?
You put on an incredible show for him this morning and now you were sitting knee to knee while I played darts with his buddies. I wondered if he had seen your performance? I wondered if he knew it was a performance for him?
After four games, I walked over to the table. You moved your chair closer to mine and tapped on the seat. Billy waived at the waitress and made the universal symbol for another round adding a wink and a smile.
“Your wife was just telling us those guys didn’t stand a chance over there. Did you whoop’ ’em?”
I told him that I won four games. When he asked me how many games we played, I cooly replied “four.” He laughed and said it was good for them to lose now and again because their heads were getting too big.
You reached under the table and gently squeezed my thigh. It wasn’t a sexual thing, but more of a “glad you came back” squeeze.
Our beers arrived and Billy asked the waitress to put them on his tab. We talked about his horses and what happens when the ski vacationers take over the area. He laughed when you told him about the “fudgies” on Mackinac Island, and said that they would have to come up with a name for the skiers.