Last night, as I was loading my gear onto a cart to load into the hotel (after our gig in Ada, Oklahoma), a rather large pickup truck pulled up to the lobby parking circle. A woman got out and ran inside. Her boyfriend or husband seemed to be extremely drunk, and he was also driving the vehicle.
“HEY! YOU IN A BAND?”
Me: “Yep.”
“WAIT! I KNOW YOU! YOU’RE BOB WILLS!”
Me: Well, no, he died in 1975. But I was playing in the band tonight.
“I KNEW IT. WHY ARE YOU IN AN SUV?”
Me: Huh?
“HORSES, MAN, HORSES! Y’ALL NEED TO BE TRAVELING ON HORSES!”
Me: You know what, man, I agree with you.
“WELL, GET ON IT! TELL THE MANAGER Y’ALL NEED SOME HORSES! YOU NEED TO RIDE ON STAGE ON THE HORSES!”
Me: I agree with you, and I will bring that up with the management.
“THANK YOU.”
Then his girlfriend or wife came out of the hotel with her paycheck, got in the truck, and he sped away. It was the most entertaining, good-natured ribbing I have received in a long time.
My big regret, as soon as he was gone, was that I did not video the entire incident. He was having such a good time, cracking himself up, I’m sure he would not have objected. We could’ve gone viral. Somewhere in Ada, Oklahoma, the next Junior Samples or Larry the Cable Guy is waiting to be discovered…
On to Fort Worth!
(The photo above is from load-out this morning, Jimmie Widener’s guitar and extra-large pickup truck for reference)
