“I asked him to dance with her, not fuck her on the dance floor.”

epub or mobi with thanks to the original sharer

        

Ira and I went to play the Louisiana Hayride in Shreveport, with a couple hours off between the first and second show, so we were fixing to walk across the street to this little old restaurant they had across from the Shreveport Municipal Memorial Auditorium. We stepped off the curb, and I saw a man lying by the sidewalk, dead drunk, puke running about five feet from his head down to the gutter.

            “Who in the shit is that?” I asked Ira.

            “That’s Hank Williams,” Ira said, scorn in his voice.