February 7, 2016:
Atrium crowd at happy hour. Free beer, sports screens, t-shirts and shorts. Grins and giggles.
Men with muscles and trucker caps, slightly intimidating in what amounts to a foreign culture. How many have guns in their trucks? How many have them in their socks?
Women with inexpensive hair. Happy hour crowd is cheaper than hotel. They're paunchy, they have faces weathered by sun and alcohol. It's the South, their diet is fried. Those who see me looking cross their arms.
I'm the odd fish, on purpose. Black jeans, where the men are in shorts or polyester golf pants. Black t-shirt, where they're in polyester button-downs, or Nike brand shirts. Hiking boots, where they're in trainers. Blue blazer where they're in shirtsleeves. I am not attempting to blend.
My Tinder date has flaked, I'm alone and enjoying it. Let's drink beer and voyeurize. Let's see what happens.