I pick up another glass, wiping it down as I stare at one of the neon signs above the bar that says, “Never Stop Lovin’ Cowboys.” Kind of a funny sign if you ask me, considering people love the idea of cowboys but usually not the cowboy themselves. Or they think a cowboy is the kind they read about in romance novels or see on TV, when in fact there’s only a small percentage that make the kind of living people who come to this bar expect. In reality, being a cowboy is hard fucking work, and most of us are broke.
