Faded country music coming from inside the building was all I could hear as I approached.
The rustling of identification being pulled out of their original components and the smell of excitement filled the air as the line grew tighter and the people started pushing their way forward. The man behind me was rubbing against me in a struggle to enter the building as if we had been lovers in the past. The closer I got to the building I began to hear the music even louder. I had never been to Dallas before and I was bound and determined to have a good time. My sister, Melissa, and I finally entered the bar and began to move comfortably around the gigantic arena. Immediately after entering the bar a greeter took our cover charge and said, "Welcome to Billy Bob's. The world's largest Honky Tonk Bar."ÃÂ To this day I have no idea what "honky tonk"ÃÂ means.
As we walked down the first hallway, I noticed framed hand prints in clay. At first I thought a local kindergarten class had visited the bar although that wouldn't be very ethical but you never can tell in Texas. As I looked closer I noticed there were names like George Straight, Randy Travis, Wynonna, Reba Macintyre, and Garth brooks written on them. The hallway was filled with these memoirs from the ceiling to the floor of performers who had sung in this bar. The clay was cold and damp as I placed my hands in the formation of each of the Dixie Chicks'. I began to think of all of the people who had done the same and I pulled my hands out quickly.
We walked in to the main area where I didn't know what to do first. There were...