Left phoenix on the 202, caught the 17 north, cut east at flagstaff, gassed up in Winslow. I-40 to Albuquerque. I-25 north to Santa Fe. Shootin' for Pueblo, Colorado. Truck was loaded tight. Willie in a cage beside me.
Stopped again in Las Vegas, NM. Just to fill the tank. But I was running out of gas and grabbed a motel room instead of driving on. I was thirsty though and after scoring a room key, decided to locate a cold beer amongst the local populace. It didn't take me very long.
Bar was full. It was karaoke night. Three tacos for a dollar. A lot of cowboy hats. Seemed cool though, so I headed for the bar. Had three beers there and realized I should inspect the Men's Room before I had another. It was just left of the pool table.
I ventured in but there was something of a line so I stood back and held my place. I said to the cowboy standing next to me, "How do I move ahead in the line?"
He said, "You don't. But when you get there,if you want to hold your place, 'just pretend your fishing nickels from the urinal."
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