Snarl nodded. “Yes. Exactly.”
I let out a long breath. “Wow.”
“So, that’s why I roam. What about you?” Snarl asked. “What drives you to go to places like Nepal and Africa?”
“Because the only place I can observe rhinos in Denver is at the zooand I’ve collected all the data I can on Rudy and Bandhu. And as much as I love those two, I need to observe these animals in the wild if I’m ever to fully understand their behavior.”
“Is that your goal? Tofullyunderstand an animal?”
“Not in a Dr. Doolittle kind of way, but yeah, I guess it is.”
“Why is that important to you?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure, but for some reason I’ve always related more to animals than people.”
“Oh, shit.” His eyebrows drew together in concern. “You don’t have a menagerie of strays at your place, do you? Some sort of six cats, eleven dogs, and an iguana with social anxiety kind of situation?”
“No.” I chuckled. “The iguana’s fine. It’s the chinchilla who suffersfrom seasonal depression.”
Snarl’s face dropped and I burst out laughing.
“Jesus,” he said, placing his hand over his heart. “Alright, you got me. I thought you were serious for a second.”
“I haven’t had the time or energy to keep a goldfish alive, let alone anything with feet.”
The house lights flickered twice before dimming.
“What’s this? What’s happening?” I asked, but didn’t have to wait long for the answer.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen and welcome to the world-famous Saddle Rack,” a faceless voice boomed over the PA system. “Please welcome to the stage for your listening and dancing pleasure, Julie Harrison and the Smokers!”
The stage lights came up to reveal the band taking their places as the piano player started the introduction to the first song.
“I was hoping these guys were playing tonight,” Snarl said, rising to his feet before extending his hand to me.
“What?” I asked, hoping if I played dumb, maybe he’d go away.
“What do you mean, what? I invited you out for an evening of dinner and dancing. The dinner part’s over, so now it’s time to hit the parquet floor. Come on, before the dance floor gets too crowded.”
“How y’all doin’ tonight?” Julie Harrison asked from the stage, her voice containing the perfect level of lead singer rasp.
“I have to confess that I was sortof hoping the dancing part was optional,” I admitted, sheepishly.
Snarl laughed. “Why’s that?”
“I can’t dance. I mean, I can, physically, but it’s just that I don’t know how.”
“Don’t know how? Shit, that ain’t no problem. That’s why line dancing was invented.”
“Line dancing?” I looked to the dance floor and sure enough, more than half of the patrons were lined up in rows, moving in what looked like relative synchronicity.
“See?” Snarl asked. “At least half of those people out there ‘can’t dance’ and look at ’em. Hell, I’d bet most of them couldn’t tell you where the two and four of the beat are, but line dancing is so easy even a big dumb oaf like me can do it.”
He extended his hand to me again and this time I took it. Snarl pulled me to my feet and led us to an available spot on the dance floor.
“Just follow me,” Snarl said as he fell in, lockstep, with the other dancers.
“Okay,” I squeaked out.
