Had some people ask for some more stories from my time on the road a while back. This was probably a year before I [fucked that woman on a boat](https://reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/er0iz8/she_cheated_on_her_douchey_boyfriend_and_let_me/). At this point in my itinerant drifting I was living in Austin, Texas.
One of my favorite bars in Austin was a bit on the edge of town on the North side, kind of a roadside dive, mostly townies and old drunks. Not even sure if it’s still open anymore.
Like most nights, I’m either playing with some neighborhood country musicians or in this bar drinking, trying not to fall in love with the Cajun bartender (different story). This particular night the former turned into the latter. Out of the clear blue sky, this sweet little thing plunks down next to me and says, “Are you a musician?”
She’s young, blonde, maybe b cups, wearing jeans that are painted on and a thin cotton T-shirt. At first I couldn’t tell if she was putting me on. Everybody in Austin is a musician. Or at least it felt that way back then.
“I am,” I respond, “how could you tell?” I had my mandolin case propped up next to my boots at the bar.