Last weekend I made some time for me. You know, I needed to get away to some far off solitude just to hear my own thoughts again. With beautiful skies and tepid temperatures, I started up the bike and took off to Fayetteville. I had been there the previous week working and my familiarity with the city gave me sense of comfort in my journey. I had made plans to go somewhere I never went when I resided there almost 7 years ago, so I picked the Dart Room. Known to be a smoke-filled friendly dive, the schedule changed a few years ago to accomodate an outlet for the repressed sub-culutre of goths and metal heads.
Rolling into town around 9pm, I decided to stay in one of the close but unintentionally retro motor lodges. The price was just right at $50/night and the room was clean, though the remains of some long-ago consumed cigarettes hung heavy. I took about 15 minutes to shake the buzz of the road from my limbs, then proceeded to see for myself the Dart Room, now dubbed the Dark Room for Fridays. The croud was small but hospitable. After a few beers the music began and over the course of several hours, three different gothic clad dj's played their industrial/ebm mixes. I was happy and relaxed.
Saturday was spend amid the company of old friends and riding through the hilly countryside. I am quickly realizing the compulsion to ride a motorcycle, but this is for further posts. I wasnted to again return to the bar to see the Saturday night transformation, for they are Metal nights. The crowd was a bit larger, but still open to non-regulars. Two bands played, fully compensating me for the cheap $5 cover charge. But I was quickly focused in another direction. The bartender was a very attractive brunette who took my attention much more than the bands. I spoke with her several times at length during the evening and hopefully she'll remember me when I return. I stayed til closing and had I been thinking straight, I would have left my number, but I felt awkward and compelled to leave since the owner was kicking everyone not employed out the door.
I left on Sunday with enough time to take the scenic route back home. Again the weather cooperated fully and I pushed through curves and sped down straighaways loving every mile of it.
I really have to move back there.
Rolling into town around 9pm, I decided to stay in one of the close but unintentionally retro motor lodges. The price was just right at $50/night and the room was clean, though the remains of some long-ago consumed cigarettes hung heavy. I took about 15 minutes to shake the buzz of the road from my limbs, then proceeded to see for myself the Dart Room, now dubbed the Dark Room for Fridays. The croud was small but hospitable. After a few beers the music began and over the course of several hours, three different gothic clad dj's played their industrial/ebm mixes. I was happy and relaxed.
Saturday was spend amid the company of old friends and riding through the hilly countryside. I am quickly realizing the compulsion to ride a motorcycle, but this is for further posts. I wasnted to again return to the bar to see the Saturday night transformation, for they are Metal nights. The crowd was a bit larger, but still open to non-regulars. Two bands played, fully compensating me for the cheap $5 cover charge. But I was quickly focused in another direction. The bartender was a very attractive brunette who took my attention much more than the bands. I spoke with her several times at length during the evening and hopefully she'll remember me when I return. I stayed til closing and had I been thinking straight, I would have left my number, but I felt awkward and compelled to leave since the owner was kicking everyone not employed out the door.
I left on Sunday with enough time to take the scenic route back home. Again the weather cooperated fully and I pushed through curves and sped down straighaways loving every mile of it.
I really have to move back there.
brokenbeatnik:
You make Arkansas sound like a more interesting place than it gets credit for.