cowboys

last friday, i surprised the bf with a date.

i picked him up after work and we proceeded (at best, a slow crawl along 94e) to downtown st.paul.

it was like that scene from swingers where trent and mike are screaming "vegas baby! vegas! baby we're going to be up five hundy by midnight!" and four hours later, a halfhearted "vegas.....baby.....vegas."

and since it was a surprise, the bf could not share in my enthusiastic roller coaster ride. he probably just sat there, wondering why the eff we were going to st.paul during rush hour.

we pulled off fifth street and saw the bright lights of the xcel. i told him to watch the videoboard.

are we going to the rodeo?

yes! i giggled. i was delighted.

we had arrived at WTC. the world's toughest cowboy.

giddy-up!

we were invited to the vip reception, so we made our way to the fishing lodge. after scarfing down a burger and mingling for a bit, we went to find our seats. sixth row.

i hadn't counted on the smell.

still, scent aside, our seats were pretty great.

the first round was the saddle bronc, where cowboys ride on horses with saddles. when a horse sped through our section, i would scream, "too close! too close!" as if someone was going to do something about it. after a particularly close rail ride, the bf and i both cowered under the flying debris. looking down, we saw a big...chunk (i maintain it was dirt. the bf begs to differ).

definitely too close.

but the horses were beautiful. the bud was bland. and i had a ball of a time at the rodeo.

"baby look at me, look at me. you're money, and you know what else? you're a big winner tonight."