Balls Dropping

The scene is the legendary Broken Spoke in Austin (featured prominently in this Dale Watson video). I'm in my new Stetson hat, trying to learn how to two-step, when someone in another dancing pair accidentally punches my Shiner out of my hand. The bottle explodes on the concrete floor. A fat man seated nearby gives me a dirty look. I remember that I've left another Shiner waiting at my table and head back to reclaim it.

But I've already drank from a fishbowl full of rum and had several margaritas and several more beers. I take a left turn too early, and walk up to what I think is my table. I point at a bottle and announce, "That's my beer."

Up look four absolutely grizzled cow-women in plaid and flannel. The most wrinkled says, "Are you old enough to even be drinking that? Have your balls dropped yet?"

Somehow not missing a beat, I say, "The left one's down, but the right could use a little work."

"Let's have a look," says the worn-faced cow-woman, gesturing at my crotch.

As I begin to undo my belt in the middle of the seating area, I notice that the other three folks sitting at the table are now staring at me in horror. I start working open the button on my jeans anyway.

"I bet we could get that right ball down by midnight," my interrogator remarks. It is at that point that I decide to pick up one of the beers on the table and walk away. A few seconds pass before I realize that I just stole someone's beer and that my belt is wide open.