Chapter 25: Some Things Get Done That Way
August 24, 20—
11:19 P.M.
Prairie Road
“Can you get one of your employees to watch your bar for an hour?” I faced Tal, leaning over his register as he rung up a beer sale. The Linear Bar was crazy. Queer cowboys were line dancing, singing, flirting, swapping spit, and tweaking, just about as best as gay cowboys could in West Stockton. Boots clicked against its oak floors, peanut shells were tossed here and there, and Luke Bryan was singing about a jacked up truck and catching a catfish dinner.
“I have three people here,” he said. “What do you need?”
“Can you spare a road trip with me?”
“What kind of road trip at this hour of the night?”
Some cowboy rubbed his denim-covered d**k against my bottom, grabbed the center of my belt buckle, and pu
