What’s the point of falling in love if it doesn’t last?

The Latest Dancing Pony pickup line…

Ethan Grant's Slice of Life from the Dancing Pony

I call this one the alternate universe line, mostly because

I’ve rarely seen this pickup maneuver performed successfully, and it’s even rarer to see a woman employing it.

A couple of cowboys came into the Dancing Pony and sat at the bar during happy hour. The younger of the two seemed depressed and hell-bent on getting drunk. Whenever someone orders a boiler-maker (a draft beer with a shot of whiskey dropped into it) for their first drink, that’s usually a bad sign.

As the evening progressed,

the older cowboy didn’t seem to have much luck drawing him out of his depression. According to the bartender serving them, the young cowboy had just discovered that his parents, who he loved and admired very much, were getting divorced. He thought, as many of us do when we’re young, that his parents were the perfect couple. To find out they were human, with flaws of their own that they were unable to reconcile, had shaken his whole belief system. He was down on relationships in general, confused, and his older friend was doing his best to ease his mind.

Halfway through his boilermaker and unwilling to be cheered up, the young cowboy said,

“Man, what’s the point of falling in love if it doesn’t last?

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to settle down with someone now. I mean, if MY parents split up then there’s just no hope. Maybe I’ll join a monastery and be a monk.”

With a chuckle, the friend replied, “Yeah, right.

You wouldn’t last a week without beer and ESPN.

Just because your parent’s marriage failed doesn’t doom you to the same fate.”

Just then, a young woman who was sitting at a nearby table with a couple of friends, and had apparently overheard the conversation, walked over to the cowboy and smiled.

“Why don’t you put off that vow of purity for just a little while and dance with me, cowboy.”

The cowboy glanced at her and shook his head. “Thanks, pretty lady. No offense, but I’m just not in the mood to dance tonight.”

She just smiled and walked back to her seat. Looking like he wanted to slap the back of the young man’s head, the friend said, “What the hell is wrong with you? A pretty woman just asked you to dance. How many times does that happen to guys like us? And besides that,

It’s not the cowboy way to reject a lady like that.”

The young cowboy shrugged. “I just don’t want to deal with any relationship right now.”

His friend raised his eyes to the ceiling like he was praying for patience.

“She didn’t propose, dumbass. She just wanted to dance.”

A few songs later, the brave lady returned, laid a note on the bar in front of the young cowboy. As she went back to her seat, both cowboys read the note. “Changing one’s focus helps overcome depression, and

I have several focal points that might help.”

The young one leaned over to his friend and whispered, “You see? She probably tries this on every cowboy who comes in here.”

His friend’s eyes widened and then he DID slap the young cowboy on the back of the head, knocking his cowboy hat slightly askew. “Dumbass, you’ve been so busy feeling sorry for yourself that you haven’t noticed

She’s been asked to dance by half the cowboys in here and turned them all down.

I have no idea why, but she likes you and you seem intent on hurting her feelings. That ain’t like you. You’re supposed to be a big, strong cowboy aren’t you? I don’t think one dance will kill you. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Looking even more depressed, possibly for realizing he might’ve hurt the young woman’s feelings, the young cowboy just shook his head and ordered another boilermaker.

After a few minutes, the tenacious lady came back and laid her hand on his as he was about to lift the draft mug to his lips. Quietly, she said, “I can see you’re hurting. But I’m a glass-half-full kind of girl and I choose to focus on the positive.

One dance, and then I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you need.”

She squeezed his hand and then released it and walked away.

The cowboy’s friend said, “I’m gonna beat you like a stray dog if you don’t dance with her right now, dude.”

The young cowboy half-smiled and glanced over at where she stood near her table, chatting with her friends. “She is pretty persistent, isn’t she? I guess one dance couldn’t hurt.”

He walked over to her and waited until she looked up at him. He took off his cowboy hat and lowered his head as if in defeat. “I apologize for my attitude, ma’am. I’m in a bad way right now but I shouldn’t have rejected your offer. I think you’re beautiful, and I’d like to take you up on that offer to dan—”

He hadn’t even finished what he was saying before she took his hand

and led him to the dance floor as a slow, romantic song, Brad Paisley’s “Perfect Storm,” began to play. He still seemed a little uncertain but she smiled as she murmured something to him and then slid her arm up his back as she placed her hand in his. It was obvious the moment he gave in because he grinned and kissed the top of her head.

I didn’t hear any of the conversation from that point forward but they didn’t leave the dance floor for at least 5 songs.

To the bartender, the young cowboy’s friend said, “Thought I was gonna have to hurt him tonight. ‘Cause man, if her “focal points” don’t do it for him, he needs to see a doctor.”

His assessment was a little crass, and thankfully out of her hearing, but I had to agree with him. She was beautiful and that young cowboy was lucky that she persisted.

They spent the rest of the evening together and the young cowboy’s friend left him without a ride, probably on purpose,

But I don’t think he suffered much from it.

©Heather Rainier 2018



The Oldest Line in the Book

She’s got a temper to go along with that red hair of hers…

City slicker, what brings you to the sticks now?


You’re doing it all wrong…

The Dancing Pony pickup line of the week is…

Ethan Grant's Slice of Life from the Dancing Pony

Last weekend I had to help out a friend when a pipe burst and flooded their house, which precluded getting the pickup line posted. There’s a chance you might read about that event in the future.

A pretty woman was sitting at the bar alone.

She told the bartender she just wanted to have a couple of drinks and be left alone. Our bartender gave her a dubious look and said “I’m happy to help, ma’am, but a pretty lady like you, drinking alone in a place like the Dancing Pony… We’re going to be really busy with that second request.”

With a blush on her cheeks and a shake of her head, she replied, “You’re really sweet to say that. I hope I don’t cause you any trouble but I’m just not in the mood for company right now.”

“It shall be done, fair lady.”

She smiled and nodded her thanks.

Our bartenders are good at running interference for the ladies so we kept her from being bothered.

A little while later a tall cowboy came in and sat down a couple of seats from the woman and ordered a drink. He asked the bartender who she was and if he could buy her a drink.

The bartender said, “Well, friend, she’s with someone. In order to keep the peace, I’m gonna tell you that probably wouldn’t be a good idea.”

The cowboy nodded in understanding and the bartender went about his business.

After about 15 or 20 minutes the cowboy slid a note he’d scribbled on a cocktail napkin to the woman.

It read, “You’re doing it all wrong.”

The lady frowned at it it, gave the cowboy a disinterested look, and wadded up the note. A little while later he passed her another note. This one said,

“There’s an art to it.”

The lady glanced at it, gave the cowboy an annoyed look, and wadded up the note. A little while later he passed her a third note. This one said,

“I can coach you if you need help.”

Finally the lady turned and looked at the persistent cowboy and in a harried tone said, “WHAT? What is it that you think I need help with?”

The cowboy leaned close and quietly replied, “Well, it’s obvious to me that you’re not with anyone, as the bartender suggested. But it looks like you could use some help with the art of drinking alone. If you don’t want to talk, I’ll be happy to let you observe my technique for the rest of the evening.”

She answered, “How do you know I’m not waiting for someone. Maybe they’re just late.”

The cowboy shook his head. “Your body language isn’t showing any anticipation. It’s telling me you’re depressed. If you want me to,

I can sit with you and keep all these other guys away, you know, just until you figure out how to drink alone.

Once you have it down, you won’t need me anymore. But trust me when I say it’s going to take you a while to learn.”

Looking unsure of how to react, she said, “Oh really? You think I’m that slow?”

The cowboy shook his head. “No ma’am.

I think you’re that beautiful.

Developing the proper ‘back off’ attitude will probably take a long time for you, because you’re obviously attracting bees like pretty flowers, but I’m committed to it as long as you are.”

The lady smiled for the first time that evening. “Okay, Coach, what do I do first?”

The cowboy said, “Well, if it doesn’t make you to uncomfortable, I have to sit next to you. You know, just so you can observe up close. Plus, it will keep others away so you can concentrate.”

She gestured to the seat beside her. “Okay, now what?”

He sat next to her and then said, “Now you have to learn how to project a look of confidence. Adopt an attitude like you don’t need anyone else around in order to fit into your surroundings. You know, like you own the place or something.”

She put a comical, overconfident look on her face and said, “How’s this?”

The cowboy grinned and said, “Well, it’s okay…if you want to keep me or Foghorn Leghorn from hitting on you—but it wouldn’t work with all these other guys.”

She burst into laughter and then said, “That’s a relief, because I’ve always been a Bugs Bunny fan myself. Plus,

I wouldn’t want to repel you since you have been so helpful and all.”

She gave him a soft, thankful look, took his hand, and said, “I really did want to be left alone tonight, but it turns out a little laughter is just what I needed. Thank you for being so sweet.”

The cowboy squeezed her hand and said, “You’re welcome, pretty lady. You really did look like you could use some cheering up.”

She blushed again and said, “I know I’m not a beauty queen. You and the bartender are the first men to compliment me like that in years.”

He shook his head like he couldn’t believe that. “Well, I don’t know what’s wrong with the men you know, but the guys in here obviously agree with me or you wouldn’t have had any trouble being left alone”

“Thank you. I needed to hear that.” In a soft voice, she added, “Even if I don’t really buy it.”

Looking determined, the cowboy got up and offered her his hand. “Darlin’, if you’d dance with me, I could go into more detail on just how beautiful you really are—unless you still want to continue with the lessons.”

She paused for a beat, bit her lip as if making a decision, and let him help her from her chair. “No, I don’t think I want to be left alone anymore tonight.

At least not by you.”

He led her out to the dance floor and they danced off and on the rest of the evening, and walked out together at closing. I don’t know what happened after that but there was a VW Passat left in the parking lot overnight.

©Heather Rainier 2018



If you dance anything like you touch, you might have to carry me back to the bar…

My dying wish is to dance with the most beautiful woman in the world

I only see one beautiful woman in here because I can’t take my eyes off you





You seem like a woman out of her element…

The latest Dancing Pony pickup line…

Ethan Grant's Slice of Life from the Dancing Pony

I would say this one was more of a joint effort rather than a pickup line but anyway…

It all started with a young woman who came in the Dancing Pony looking a little low. Our bartenders are damned good at spotting ladies in distress and helping them feel comfortable. Matter of fact, it’s a quality I look for when interviewing new employees. It’s a part of the job some people never master and it’s next to impossible to train someone to do it. They’re either hard-wired to connect emotionally with people, or they’re not.

The Dancing Pony has two fairly new bartenders,

Landon and Ivan (not to be confused with Cassie’s Ivan, the gastronomical artiste),  who are particularly good judges of character, so this talent comes naturally to them. They’re not related but at first glance they could easily pass for brothers.

Landon and Ivan both walked over as the young woman took a seat at the bar, looking distinctly uncomfortable. She cast her gaze slowly around the bar as if she was searching the place for someone and gave a slight start when Landon said, “What can we get for you, ma’am?”

She glanced back and forth between the two of them, a pretty pink blush came into her cheeks, and then she looked down at her hands which were clutching the bar. “I don’t drink much…and I don’t care for beer. What do you recommend?”

Landon replied, “That depends on your tastes. What’s your favorite non-alcoholic drink?”

She looked down at her hands for a few seconds and then said, “A mocha latte. I really like those. Do you have something that tastes like that?”

The men both smiled and Ivan said, “Divine White Russian.”

Her eyebrows rose and the beginning of a smile bowed her lips. “Oh, that sounds nice. I’ll try one. But what if I don’t like it?”

Landon waved a dismissive hand and said, “Don’t worry about that. We have a 100% money back guarantee on everything we serve.” Winking at her, he added, “Besides that, we also have a policy at The Dancing Pony that

All gorgeous women who have never been here before get their first drink free.”

She turned five shades of red and put her hands to her cheeks as if embarrassed by the fact she was blushing. Surprisingly, her eyes grew a little glossy before she said, “That’s very sweet of you. How did you know I’ve never been in here before?”

I have to add here that Ivan is the sort of man who can’t stand to see women upset for any reason, especially one who was so obviously out of her element. He put an elbow on the bar and leaned toward her a little. “You said you don’t drink much. Most people who frequent nightclubs usually have a favorite drink.”

Landon, who is good at diffusing tense situations, smiled and leaned in from her other side and said, “Plus, we have a knack for knowing such things. You seem like a woman out of her element.

We’re here to make your stay enjoyable and take care of you however we can.

What brings you in tonight? Just move in to town or visiting?”

She glanced between them but didn’t seem bothered that they were leaned toward her. “Oh no. I’ve lived just outside of Divine most of my life. I just don’t…get out much. I have 3 kids and I’m a single mom. A friend of mine surprised me with a baby sitter tonight and told me to go out.” Casting another gaze around the nightclub, she quickly added,

“She said she’d meet me here but I haven’t seen her yet.”

A half-drunk cowboy wandered up to the bar and leaned into the young woman’s personal space. He squinted at her and grinned, and with a slurring voice said, “Hey there, sexy lady, how ‘bout a dansh? I’m dyin’ to know what ya feel like rubbin’ up against me.”

Clearly not used to fending off drunks, she looked at him with big eyes and said, “Thank you, sir, but I don’t—“

Just then Ivan leaned a little closer, stroked her forearm which was resting on the bar, and said, “So are we still on for next Friday night?” He shot a steely-eyed look at the cowboy as he spoke.

The cowboy peered at Ivan and said,

“Aw hell, maybe nexsh time.”

As he wandered off in search of more receptive pastures, she turned to Ivan and said, “Thank you so much for that. I was afraid I’d offend him.”

Smiling, Ivan shook his head. “No problem, ma’am.” Gesturing at himself and Landon, he added, “That’s what we do.”

Landon nodded. “If we can tell a female patron is uncomfortable with a man’s attentions we try to intervene, at least to check in with them. If we ever overstep our boundaries you let us know.”

As the evening went on, Landon and Ivan got better acquainted with the young woman and had to re-direct several other admirers from her presence. She stayed right where she was at the bar the entire time, chatting with Landon and Ivan as their duties allowed.

Right about last call, another cowboy approached and invited her to go get something to eat with him. She looked surprised at the out-of-the-blue nature of his invitation and clearly didn’t understand the underlying question the player was asking her: It was last call and did she want to get lucky?

Landon stepped in and politely ran interference, but it was becoming obvious that both bartenders were about done watching her get hit on. As Landon was walking away this time he stopped, turned back to the young lady, and said, “Would you care to accompany me and Ivan to the local rodeo next week? No funny business, I promise. Just rodeo and supper.”

Ivan nodded with enthusiasm.

“You’d be safe with us.

We could pick y’all up or you can meet us there, if you’d prefer.”

The young lady stuttered at first and looked around in confusion—I think—because no one was hitting on her, warranting the necessity of them “saving” her, as they asked her out this time. “Uh…I’m confused. Are-Are you actually asking me out on a date?”

Landon and Ivan both nodded and Landon said, “It’d be our honor to escort you to the rodeo.”

Her cheeks turned a pretty pink, but her wistful tone hinted at her disappointment. “I’d love to, guys, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to. I’m on a very tight budget and hiring a babysitter for three kids is expensive.”

Landon grinned at Ivan, who nodded, and then he said, “The invitation was for all four of you. We’d expect them to come, too. I’ll bet they’d love the rodeo.”

Ivan said, “There’ll be rides and plenty for them to do. And besides, Landon always wants someone to ride the rollercoaster. He’s still a kid at heart but I won’t get on those things with him. And

I promise you’d all be safe with us. What do you say?”

She blinked and sniffled, but a beaming smile crossed her face. “I’d—we’d be delighted.”

We closed down The Pony that night and the guys offered to escort her to her car. Before she left, Ivan asked, “Your friend never showed up, did she?”

She shook her head and then giggled. “I forgot all about her. I hope she’s okay.”

Landon glanced over at me when I chuckled and then he said,

“Your friend’s name wouldn’t happen to be Grace Warner, would it?”

Surprised, she looked at them both and said, “Now, how did you know her name?”

I shoulda known all along. That Gracie…

©Heather Rainier 2018



City slicker, what brings you to the sticks now?

My dad taught me to never waste anything, not even a bad beer.

I only see one beautiful woman in here because I can’t take my eyes off you

There’s Not Much You Can Do To This Chevy That I Can’t Fix

Ethan Grant's Slice of Life from the Dancing Pony

The Dancing Pony pickup line of the week is….

I call this one a Divine accident.

We had a lot of traffic coming into the nightclub from the oil fields this weekend. Early in the evening on Saturday, there was a ruckus out in the parking lot so the bouncers and I went out to investigate.

We discovered that a mild fender bender had happened

and the two parties involved, along with a host of onlookers, were gathered surveying the damage.

It appeared that a young lady driving a 4-door dually had made a turn too sharp and caught another truck’s bumper. The damage was not severe but any damage to a truck like that is costly.

The truck she hit was a ‘69 Chevy

that had been restored and was in show room condition. The bumper was a little bent on the old truck but it had taken off half the side panel on her truck.

The owner of the restored truck was looking at the damage and the young lady was standing there, crying and apologizing, when a smart ass from the growing crowd started bad-mouthing women drivers and heckling the poor girl.

The cowboy whose truck had been hit turned to this guy and said,

“Hey look, everybody has a bad day every once in a while. Cut her some slack. Besides, it ain’t your truck that’s been hit so why don’t you just mosie along.”

The smart ass replied, “She was probably putting on make-up while she was driving and hit you, and you’re gonna take up for that stupid bitch?”

The cowboy took exception to the verbal attack

on the poor girl, and the last word wasn’t completely out of the jackass’s mouth before he found himself kissing asphalt. The crowd snickered at him and a few people even heckled him for his bad manners.

I took one look at the bouncers, who looked ready to act, and said, “Let it go guys. If he gets up and picks a fight you can intervene.”

The young lady looked at the cowboy

and said, “I’m so sorry about all of this. You didn’t have to do that for me. After all, I did just wreck your nice truck.”

The cowboy said, “Well, pretty lady, I’ve had this truck since high school and it’s my pride and joy. I rebuilt it myself and

There’s not much you can do to this Chevy that I can’t fix.

Besides, if I was gonna get hit by someone I’m glad it was a pretty cowgirl like you and not some mouthy jackass like that guy. I can fix your truck, too, if you want.”

The young lady was crying, blushing, and smiling all at the same time when she said, “I don’t know what to say. You’ve been such a gentleman about all this. I couldn’t ask you to do anything like that. I have insurance and I’m sure it’ll take care of the damage on your truck and mine.”

The cowboy said, “I appreciate that but

I don’t let anybody work on this baby but me so don’t worry about it.”

Then the cowboy tilted his head up as if deep in thought and added, “But there is one thing you could do for me, if it’s not too much trouble.”

With great sincerity in her eyes, she nodded. “Of course, I’d be happy to…” Then smiling shyly, she added, “Uh, well, I guess I should ask what it is first.”

After laughing the cowboy replied,

“I’d be honored if you’d accompany me inside the Dancing Pony and dance with me tonight.”

Looking delighted, she said, “Oh my goodness, are you sure?”

“Never been more so, pretty lady.”

She said, “I’d be happy to.”

The crowd dispersed and everyone went back inside.

One of the bouncers turned to me and said,

“Hey boss, what do we do about this guy?”

He pointed at the heckler who was now sitting up in the parking lot nursing a bloody nose.

I said, “Call him a cab and come on back inside.”

So the bouncer looked at him and said,

“You’re a cab.”

Then he laughed and came back inside.

The Oldest Line in the Book

My dying wish is to dance with the most beautiful woman in the world

Chivalry is alive and well in Divine, Texas

Ethan Grant's Slice of Life from the Dancing Pony

The Dancing Pony pickup line of the week is….


Chivalry is alive and well in Divine, Texas. At least Saturday night it was.

A group of young ladies were in the nightclub celebrating. I wasn’t sure what the story was until later but it seemed to revolve around the dark-haired lady of the bunch. She was about five foot two inches, very pretty, and given her alcohol intake, obviously wanted to forget somebody or something that evening.

The ladies were having a good time, being a little loud

and drinking margaritas by the pitcher, when a couple of ranch hands came in from one of our neighboring ranches. They sat down at the bar, immediately noticed our party of ladies, and asked the bartender what was up with the boisterous group.

The bartender served their beers and said, “They’re celebrating a breakup the dark-haired gal had recently. I guess the relationship wasn’t a good one and now that it’s over they’re throwing her a party. One of her friends told me

She’s no longer looking for Mr. Right, just for Mr. Right Now.”

One of the ranch hands laughed and said, “Well, they came to the right place.”

The taller of the two ranchers said, “I think I know the dark-haired lady. That’s Jenna. And yeah, her ex was a nightmare. Real asshole. He got sent back to jail for violating his parole or something. She’s better off without him.”

His friend said, “Hey, didn’t you two go out a couple of times after high school?”

The taller hand nodded. “Yeah. I really liked her but she was always looking for the BBD.”

“The what?”

“You know. The Bigger Better Deal.”

His friend replied, “Oh, never satisfied, huh? Well maybe she’s gotten over that. You should go talk to her. Maybe she’ll appreciate a decent guy like you since her last relationship ended so badly.”

The taller one answered, “I don’t know. The bartender said she wasn’t looking for a relationship, just a good time.”

His friend gestured toward the dance floor.

“Well, then go show her a good time.”

Just then, a drunk walked up to Jenna, got right in her face, and spoke loudly enough that we could all hear him over at the bar. “Hey, babe. I can show you the best time you ever had.” As he said it he grabbed her roughly around her waist and pulled her to him. She was pretty drunk, too, at this point, but not enough to respond by throwing her drink in his face, for which I was grateful.

Why can’t people just slap each other? It doesn’t make a big mess.

Anyway…she made it clear that she was not interested in him at all as she tried vainly to get free from his grasp. Her friends started fussing at the drunk and it was obvious he was unwelcome in their midst.

I gave the signal to our bouncers but the tall ranch hand got there first. “Hey, pal, if you weren’t so damned drunk, you’d realize the lady isn’t interested. Back off.”

The drunk let go of her so fast that she nearly fell, rounded on him and yelled, “Oh yeah? Who the fuck are you, her body guard? Get lost, shit kicker.”

The drunk took a swing at our hero, who dodged it easily

since the guy was so inebriated, and he fell and hit his head on a chair and gave himself a bloody nose. One of the bouncers jumped in and threw the guy out while the ladies applauded.

Meanwhile, our hero tipped his hat to the ladies and said, “I hope you’re okay, Jenna.” Then he returned to the bar and sat back down. The ladies were all standing there kind of awe struck.

A few seconds later, Jenna walked over to the bar in tears and said, “That was really nice of you. I’ve never had a guy stand up for me like that before—at least not one that didn’t have an ulterior motive.”

“Maybe I’m old school, but you should be treated like a lady, no matter where you are.

That’s the way it ought to be, anyway. I don’t know if you remember me or not but we dated a couple of times after high school.”

Jenna turned pale and seemed to sober up very quickly at hearing this and said, “Oh my god. Will, I am so drunk I didn’t recognize you.” She gave him a long look and then started crying.

Will patted his pockets like he was looking for his handkerchief and then pulled a tissue from the Puffs box I offered.

(Hey, don’t judge. Puffs are soft, and I keep a box of them under the bar for just such an ‘emergency.’)

“I didn’t mean to make you cry. I was just trying to make you feel better.”

Jenna took the tissue with a smile and then burst into fresh tears. “No, it’s not you. Well, it is you, but you know what I mean.”

Looking confused, Will said, “Uh, no. I—”

Wiping away her tears, Jenna said, “I just had this sudden flash about what my life would’ve been like for the last ten years if I’d…Well, anyway, I’m sorry to be like this. Thank you for helping me back there.” Seeming a little embarrassed, she turned as if to walk away.

Just then, Will’s friend rose from his chair and offered it to her.

“Seems to me like y’all got some catchin’ up to do, so I’m gonna say good-night. See ya tomorrow, Will.”

At Will’s nod, she took the chair and they talked for a few minutes while I brewed a fresh pot of coffee for her. Jenna chuckled and said, “My friends seem to be having a great time. They probably haven’t even noticed that I’m over here. I think they’d understand if I left. Would you mind driving me home?”

Will said, “Sure, but only to make sure you get home safe. Maybe you’ll let me take you out sometime?”

Jenna laughed and then hiccupped. “You mean sometime when I’m not so drunk. You really are a great guy, you know that? I’d love to go out with you.”

They left together and I heard later that Will did exactly what he said he’d do. He made sure she got home safe, and left. I’m thinking we’ll see them together in here on a date very soon.

By the way it was about an hour before the other ladies noticed that the reason for the party had left.

Our margaritas are really good.

City slicker, what brings you to the sticks now?

The Dancing Pony pickup line of the week is….

We had a chance to witness a reunion of sorts this past weekend.

There was a young lady about 30 years of age sitting at the bar talking to her mom on her phone. All wrapped up in her conversation, she didn’t notice a gentleman of about the same age with red hair and red beard sit down a couple of chairs away from her.

He ordered a beer and tipped the bartender generously. When the bartender thanked him, he said, “You’re very welcome.” His voice had an incredibly low pitch that seemed to vibrate though the place. You couldn’t help but notice his voice, sort of like some DJ’s or radio personalities have.

When he spoke, the young lady jerked around to look at him

and practically screamed into the phone, “Gotta go mom. Love ya, bye,” and hung up.

She then moved a little closer to the gentleman and said, “Oh my God! Gene, is that you? Do you remember me from junior college—”

Before she could finish he said, “Wow, Katie! How could I possibly forget you? I didn’t know you lived here. I just moved here from Houston a couple of months ago.”

Katie laughed and asked, “Wasn’t it you who used to ask me and some of the other guys in class how we could stand to live out in the country, away from all the conveniences of the city?”

Gene chuckled and his ruddy cheeks flushed a little redder.

“Yeah, that was me. I was born and raised in the big city and it always seemed weird to me that someone would want to live way out in the country so far away from all the action.”

In a joking tone, Katie said, “Well, city slicker, what brings you out to the sticks now? You on the run from the law?”

Gene shrugged and then nodded. “Yes, in a manner of speaking. I lived in a nice area of Houston but the crime rate was getting out of hand. Police were knocking on my door it seemed like every other day to ask if I had witnessed any strange activities in the neighborhood because someone else had been robbed. I remembered you and the guys from class talking about how you didn’t even lock your doors when you went to work and stuff. I figured I needed a change of pace, so here I am.”

Katie said, “Well, are you settled and found a place to work yet?”

Gene nodded. “My aunt left me a small inheritance when she passed and it was just enough for me to make the move. I sold my place in the city, bought a small farm and I’m starting my own business.”

“How’s that going so far? What kind of business?”

He grinned. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

Gene said, “I’ve always been a foodie—passionate about wine and cheese mostly—so I’m raising goats and making cheese from goat’s milk. I’m also in the process of planting a vineyard. Hopefully we’ll be in full scale production in a couple of years. It’s a lot more work than I thought it’d be, though. How about you? You’re a sight for sore eyes. What do you do here in Divine?”

With a becoming blush, Katie replied, “I manage my parent’s small dairy. It’s mostly family members I work with, but we do have some other employees. I can’t believe you’re a farmer now. That just blows my mind. Farm life seems to agree with you. It certainly hasn’t changed that sexy deep voice of yours.”

Leaning a little closer, he nudged her shoulder with his own and said,

“Well, you look as beautiful as ever.

Dairy life obviously agrees with you. I’ll tell you what. You show this city slicker how to country dance and I’ll take you on a tour of my farm sometime.”

Rising from her chair, Katie said, “You got a deal, cowboy. How about I show you the proper way to Texas two-step.”

They parted ways at the end of the night but not before exchanging numbers and addresses. Probably see them again soon.


A Super Bowl Shut Out

I only see one beautiful woman in here because I can’t take my eyes off you

Ethan Grant's Slice of Life from the Dancing Pony

The Dancing Pony pickup line of the week is….


If you think anything like I do, you may often wonder

why certain people who seem to have nothing in common are attracted to each other. Some say it’s because God has a sense of humor. I believe it’s because God knows what we need for growth.

A young lady came in the nightclub with a coworker and they sat at the bar talking. The coworker was telling the young lady, who was a curvaceous brunette, that she needed to diet and take better care of her appearance if she wanted to attract a guy. The young lady seemed introverted and wasn’t very receptive to the advice her coworker was giving her.

You can imagine how difficult it was  to keep my mouth shut about this “friend’s” advice.

I hate when women talk to each other like that.

After a while a couple of cowboys came in and sat across the bar from the two ladies. Vance, the taller of the cowboys, is a good guy, but he’s earned a reputation as a “player” with the women around here.

The cowboys were talking, and in an unusually sincere voice I overheard Vance say, “Wow, who’s that gal across the bar.

She’s really beautiful.”

Looking a little confused, his friend craned his head to look and then replied, “Who? Her? You’re kidding right? You figure on getting close to her so you can get in with the friend she’s talking to, or what?”

Vance shook his head and frowned. “I’m serious. There’s something about her. I’m asking her to dance.”

With that, Vance got up, walked over to the two ladies, and sounding uncharacteristically nervous, he said, “Hi, I’m Vance. Would you dance with me?”

The young lady’s coworker scowled at him and said,

“I know who you are. Go chubby-chase somewhere else, player.”

Without saying a word, the young lady gently grabbed her coworker by the arm as if to say it was okay and to let him talk. Still looking disgruntled, her friend backed off.

Vance hardly spared the defensive friend a glance and said, “No offense, ma’am, but I was asking your friend to dance, not you.”

The coworkers jaw dropped and her eyes popped wide.

He turned to the curvaceous brunette.

“I’d be honored if you’d dance with me.”

I’ve seen Vance put the charm on a girl before but I could see that he was completely sincere.

The young lady’s friend sounded off again. “Well, then the answer isn’t just ‘no’ but HELL no!”

Having evidently recovered from the shock of his invitation, the brunette grasped her coworker’s arm. “I said it’s okay. I’ll be fine.” Then she turned to Vance and shyly said, “Just so I’m clear, YOU actually want to dance with ME? I know who you are, too, Vance. Your reputation as a Casanova precedes you. There are plenty of beautiful women in here who would love to dance with you. Why me?”

With a more confident smile, Vance leaned toward her a bit and said, “I only see one beautiful woman in here because

I can’t take my eyes off you.”

The young lady blushed and her eyes went wide. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. I’d love to dance with you.”

While they were dancing, her coworker went over to Vance’s friend and poked his shoulder to get his attention. “Whatever Vance has in mind, he’d better not be chubby-chasing my friend for another notch on his damn bedpost.

If he pulls a ‘love ’em and leave ’em’ routine on her I’ll hunt him down with my shotgun.”

Vance’s friend said, “Lady, a player he may be but he’s not THAT bad. I think he really likes her.”

“Well, he better–or else.” With that, she returned to her seat.

Vance and his lady spent most of the evening on the dance floor. Closing time came around and according to his friend Vance escorted her to her car, gave her a goodnight kiss, got in his truck, and went home.

His friend said the zombie apocalypse must be coming

soon because that was the first time he’d ever seen Vance go home alone from the Pony, especially after dancing all night with the same person.

Personally, I think they’ll make a great couple because opposites not only attract. They can also complete each other. I’m sure we’ll see them together again soon.


A Super Bowl Shut Out

She’s got a temper to go along with that red hair of hers…

My dad taught me to never waste anything, not even a bad beer.

Slices of Life from the Dancing Pony

The Dancing Pony pickup line of the week is….

When I told Gracie about the subjects of the pickup line this time around, she suggested that I tell y’all to imagine Chance or Clayton Carlisle as you read this one. She said something about “sexy silver” ranchers gets y’all’s attention. Anyway…

There’s no doubt that sometimes the weirdest things attract people together.

One of our local ranchers came in with his ranch foreman and sat at the bar. He asked the bartender for the worst beer we had, something that just doesn’t sell at all. That’s an unusual request but not from this gentleman.

The bartender gave him a beer that we seldom ever sell. It’s not popular and even if you’re a beer drinker you’d probably agree that this one sucks. We only keep it in stock for one particular person who rarely comes in but he’s a good friend so we keep a couple on hand for him.

Anyway, this rancher picked up the bottle of bad beer and guzzled the entire thing in one gulp. Then he said,

“Okay, bartender, now give me your best.”

The bartender gave him a premium beer and he sipped it slowly. While he talked with his foreman, he pulled out a pack of Apple Jack chewing tobacco and stuffed some in his jaw.

While they were talking, a lady who had been sitting at the other end of the bar got up and walked over to the rancher. When he turned to her and smiled, she said, “Sir, can I ask you a question?”

The rancher smiled at her. “Yes ma’am. What would you like to know?”

“Is that Apple Jack chewing tobacco I smell?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yes ma’am it is.”

She smiled and said, “My granddad used to chew Apple Jack and the smell always reminds me of him. He was a sweet man and I miss him a lot.” Seeming touched, the rancher asked the lady if he could buy her a drink and she said, “That would be nice. Thank you.”

Sitting down next to the rancher and his foreman, she said, “I’m curious about something else. Why did you order the worst beer they have and then chug it down like that?”

“My dad taught me to never waste anything, not even a bad beer.”

With a grin, she said, “Yeah, but why buy something you already know you don’t like.”

He grabbed the empty bottle that had contained the bad beer, spit in it, and then smiled at her.

“So I don’t get ‘em mixed up.”

She had a full body shudder and all three of them laughed out loud. “Oh, Lord. Yeah, that’d be bad. I’m curious, did you start chewing tobacco as an alternative to smoking?”

He shook his head. “No, I started ‘cause of my ex-wife.”

She raised an eyebrow and asked, “Did she like it or something?”

“She hated it. But you know the old sayin’, ‘never slap a man who’s chewin’ tobacco.’

I needed all the help I could get with that cantankerous woman. No offense, ma’am.”

She laughed and said, “None taken. So you argued a lot, huh?”

The rancher said, “There are two theories in Texas about how to win an argument with a woman and neither one of them work.”

She laughed again and said, “Well, you seem pretty good-natured and easygoing to me.”

The foreman nudged his boss with his elbow, and motioned with his head to the dance floor. Looking encouraged, the rancher said, “Pretty lady, would you do me the honor of dancing with me? That is if you don’t mind bein’ seen with an old coot like me.”

She blushed and said, “You don’t look that much older than me. Besides, I’m not one to care about what people think anyway.

Come on, cowboy, let’s cut a rug.”

They danced several times that night and the rancher slipped his foreman his keys and told him he’d see him in the morning. When they left that night, they looked pretty wrapped up in each other.

My sweet matchmaker, Gracie, thinks this woman may be the next “Rancher’s Lady.” The scent of Apple Jack chewing tobacco is probably the last thing I would’ve expected to attract a lady but when love is the result, you can’t really argue with it.

©Heather Rainier 2017


Author’s Note: This pickup line was originally posted on Facebook in 2014. I’m considering re-publishing these short stories every so often on my blog, so they’re easier for readers to access, especially readers who are new to the series. I hope you enjoyed it. Love, Heather

My dying wish is to dance with the most beautiful woman in the world

Ethan Grant's Slice of Life from the Dancing Pony

The Dancing Pony pickup line of the week is….


There were a couple of ladies sitting at the bar

discussing their work week when three cowboys, who’d obviously been having a good time somewhere else, came into the Pony. They were laughing at something as they sat down near our ladies at the bar.

It turns out that one of the cowboys was telling jokes and some of them were actually funny. He asked the bartender if he would like to hear a New York echo.

The bartender played along and said sure, so the cowboy called out,

“Helllooooooo”……..Shut the fuck up!”

Everybody laughed. The ladies seemed mildly amused but didn’t say anything.

The comedic cowboy excused himself to go to the bathroom, stopped, walked over to one of the ladies and said, “Darlin, I’m a dying man and my doctor has only given me one week to live.

My dying wish is to dance with the most beautiful woman in the world.

I can’t believe my luck that you showed up here tonight. Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

The lady paused for a minute, her friend gave her a very cynical look, then she smiled and said, “Okay, cowboy. Since there’s no long-term commitment, I guess so.” With that she hopped up and went to the dance floor with him. They danced a couple of songs and she seemed to have a good time.

When she came back to her seat, her friend said, “What the hell was that? A pity dance?”

The lady said, “He made me laugh. And I don’t remember the last time someone called me beautiful.” She paused to laugh and then said,

“Besides, he is a dying man.”

Her friend looked disgusted and said, “Well, if he wasn’t drunk, and you put him in some decent clothes, he might be presentable.” The lady shrugged and seemed unperturbed by her friend’s obvious attitude.

After the couple had danced several more times, the cowboy came over to where the ladies sat, took off his hat, and said, “My lady, I’ll have to say goodnight to you. My party has informed me that they’re moving on with or without me and so I must leave. However, if I’m alive tomorrow–and sober–I’d very much like to call you. You see, I lied about one thing. I’m not dying. But I do think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world and would be honored if you’d take my call.”

The lady blushed and said, “Well, sugar, you didn’t have to lie. I think that’d be great. Here’s my number.” She wrote it on a napkin and he gently folded it and put it in his wallet. He thanked her and said goodnight.

Then the lady’s friend said “Okay, dances I can go along with because he did seem like a good dancer.

But you can’t be serious about going out with that guy.”

The lady said, “Okay, let’s look at the facts.” She held up her hand and began ticking off her fingers. “He makes me laugh. He’s a good dancer. He’s cute. He’s obviously not broke since he paid our tab for us. Plus, he was gentleman enough to not expect a one-nighter for paying said tab, and he asked for permission call me sometime.

I think your standards might be a little too high, girlfriend.”

The friend got that look on her face that people get when they know you’re right but don’t want to admit it, and then she finally gave a good-natured laugh, and said, “Oh….shut the fuck up!”

I’ve seen a lot of things happen in this bar, and probably heard most of the pickup lines out there. But regardless of who you are, what you look like, what you say or who you say it to, you must have confidence.


A Super Bowl Shut Out

The Oldest Line in the Book

The Dancing Pony Pickup Line…

Ethan Grant's Slices of Life Banner

A friend of mine by the name of Jackson

came into the Dancing Pony one evening wearing a T-shirt that read, “I Love Hips and Curves.” Now, this shirt is not intended as a joke or to rile up feminists, it’s just a shirt he likes to wear. It’s also a sentiment he believes in. He’s just doing his part spreading the love.

While he was sitting at the bar, a young woman named Resa, who works at the local Parks & Recreation department, walked in and took the only remaining seat at the bar, next to Jackson. After ordering her drink, she looked over at him and smiled. She squinted at his shirt and then grinned.

“Wow, does your girlfriend make you wear that?”

Setting his beer on the bar, Jackson shook his head. “No, ma’am. I bought this T-shirt for myself because I liked it…along with some other things.”

Resa’s eyes popped wide and she nodded as she settled back in her chair. “Oh, I see.”

“Oh, no, ma’am. That came out wrong. I’m not a transvestite.”

She put up a hand and shook her head. “I’m not judging, sir.”

Jackson looked to me for help

and once I was done laughing I said, “I can vouch for him, Resa. There’s nothing but briefs and boxers in this guy’s underwear drawer.”

She gaped at me. “And you know this HOW, Ethan? Does Grace know?”

It was Jackson’s turn to laugh at my expense, and I said, “He doesn’t bat for the other team, and you know I’m head over heels in love with Gracie, and what’s in her drawers, as well.”

Resa choked on her drink. “That may have been too much information, Ethan.”

Right about then I wanted a shot of whiskey. Once everyone had settled down, I looked at Jackson and said, “You should tell Resa your story.”

Jackson shrugged. “I hate sounding pathetic.”

That seemed to pique Resa’s curiosity and she nudged him. “It’s been a long day and I’d love to hear your story. How’d you get that T-shirt?”

Jackson took another sip of his beer and then drew in a deep breath and let it out. “I used to have a girlfriend. Her name was Sheila, and she was curvy, and I do mean curvy. I loved that about her but I knew she was self-conscious about her shape. She was always talking about how she needed to lose thirty pounds.

She didn’t like to undress with all the lights on.”

Resa nodded. “I can just imagine how she felt.”

Jackson nodded and pointed at her drink for me to make her another one as he continued. “It was a crying shame. And she couldn’t understand why I liked her body just the way it was, and I don’t think she ever accepted that I was telling her the truth when I told her I thought she was beautiful, clothed or not. I guess it was the way she was raised, or maybe well-meaning friends.”

Resa nodded again. “My mom was that way, always suggesting salads to me.”

Jackson tilted his head and looked at her, but continued his story. “I wanted to do something to, I don’t know, give her confidence a boost.

I heard about this website called Hips and Curves that sells lingerie and apparel,

and other sexy items in sizes that would fit her. I looked at the website but I had no idea what her actual size numbers were, or how to order the right thing, so I actually called their toll free number and talked to a person on the other end. That nice lady helped me figure out her sizes and made suggestions, and I wound up buying several different things for her. Then the customer service representative mentioned that they had these T-shirts on sale.” He pinched the collar of the black T-shirt he had on. “She said any man who appreciated curves as much as I did should have one. I liked that she actually asked for the sale, so I went for it.”

Resa brightened up. “So it was something you planned to wear to kind of speak up and support the love of women’s curves? Wow,” she said, looking considerably more impressed.

“That’s pretty much it, Resa.

So I put the T-shirt on the day the stuff arrived

and took the box over to her house for her. I should’ve checked in with her before just going over to her house, kind of measure her mood, you know?”

“Was she moody often?” Resa asked as she looked over at me. I gave her a surreptitious nod and widened my eyes. It’s just my opinion but Sheila had a little more than body image issues to work through but I’m not a doctor, so…anyway.

“She could be a touch moody, but I’m easy going so we got on okay. So I show up on her doorstep with a box. She doesn’t notice what my T-shirt says off the bat because the letters are gray and kinda hard to read at first, subtle, you’d say.”

“I noticed,” Resa said. “Okay, so what did she do?”

Jackson slouched a little and I knew the incident still bugged him.

“She looked at the packages, and she…she flipped out. How dare I buy stuff just to make her over or feel guilty. How could I possibly think she’d look sexy in those things? It wasn’t like I’d bought her crotchless panties and a corset, either. I’d bought her soft things like a gown and a robe that would feel good to her, nothing that might make her think I was trying to change her. I was trying to make her feel good, you know?”

“I’m so sorry, Jackson,” Resa said in a sympathetic tone. “Did she notice your T-shirt?”

He shook his head.

By this point Jackson’s cheeks were a little red

and he shrugged and lifted his beer to his lips. “So, I don’t have a girlfriend named Sheila anymore. She never did calm down, threw everything back in the box, handed it to me, and said we were through. She needed the time to work on herself and she was thinking about having some kind of surgery so none of that stuff would fit her anyway, once she was done. I tried to explain but she wouldn’t listen. So, that’s my story.”

Resa had a soft, tender look on her face. “And you still like women with hips and curves after all of that?” Jackson made eye contact with her. I think because something in her tone compelled him to.

“Yeah, I do, especially if they have the confidence to understand they’re beauty isn’t based on a size number. Why do you ask?”

Resa smiled at him and said, “You didn’t notice my dress, did you?”

Jackson smiled as he looked at her dress, which was suitable for business but fit her plush, hourglass figure in a way that was capable of distracting Jackson from any sad memories, which was my goal in bringing up the subject.

“Actually, I was trying not to stare earlier when you came in. It looks nice on you. But am I missing something?”

She lifted her wrist toward him and said, “Feel that?”

He stroked the soft navy blue fabric with his fingertips and said, “That’s nice and soft. What is it?”

A devilish smile curved her lips and she said,

“That’s girlfriend material, honey.”

Jackson chuckled, and she joined him, then he started laughing and she laughed with him. He leaned forward and chastely kissed her cheek and said, “Darlin’, I think I just fell for the oldest line in the book. Care to dance with me?”

“I’d love to.”

I chuckled as Jackson openly admired Resa as he helped her down from her tall chair. Obviously enjoying the attention, Resa stood tall and led him to the dance floor, the sway in her hips showing that she had no lack of confidence in handling her curves. Judging by the attention Jackson paid her the rest of the night, he didn’t either.

©Copyright Heather Rainier 2016

Just a little fun from Hips and Curves


And maybe a little more


And for men who need a little guidance in what to order for their lady

from Hips and curves, see their Tips For Men.

For the curious: I don’t receive any sort of compensation from Hips and Curves. I just really like their products, their website, and the fact that they celebrate the voluptuous woman by hiring curvy models.

Comments are turned on. If you like what you read on my blog, please share it with your friends. <3

Author Note: 12/29/17 This pickup line story was originally published on my blog in January of 2016. Prior to that, Ethan Grant and I were posting weekly Pickup Lines from the Dancing Pony every Sunday evening on Facebook for a couple of years. Those pickup lines did eventually come to an end, and I published the remaining “shorts” here on my blog.

To be clear, Ethan came up with the ideas and wrote the rough draft and then turned them over to me for editing and embellishment. The result was a tremendously popular weekly feature. I was sad when it ended, but we both had a lot going on at that time and something had to give.

While doing end of year housekeeping on my website, I came upon these Slices of Life from the Dancing Pony. My intention is to re-publish those original FB pickup lines here on the blog.  This one got my attention  and made me giggle. The hero is so sweet, and the heroine is so brave, so I think I’ll start with it. What would you think of a renaissance of all those old pickup lines? I’m going to schedule a few out for the next several weeks and see how readers like them. Let me know what you think.

Love, Heather