Driving 12 Hours to Nashville in My Pick-Up: Anticipating Adventures and Dodging Mr. Wrongs
Found Mr. RightNow: One Honky-Tonk Afternoon
Tennesse is quickly becoming my favourite State. Possibly taking over the top spot from Nevada! Anyone who knows me, knows this is such an outrageous statement. Las Vegas isn’t just the ultimate backdrop for exciting stories; the men aren’t half bad either. I have more top 5 stories from Las Vegas than any other city in the world. So to say a newcomer may just eclipse this fair city and state, well…..something awesome must have happened.
AND IT DID. ENTER NASHVILLE BABY.
Hot dang this place is on fire. Nashville was the last city to hit on my bucket list for the United States. Talk about saving the best for last. It was so awesome, I may look at buying some property close to the city centre.
I drove 12 hours from Toronto, intent on hitting Kentucky by 8pm to break up the drive. Kentucky in itself provided an ample storyline, but that’s for another post. As my luck would have it, I pulled over from I71 right into the lap of NASCAR’s Kentucky Motor Speedway. Of COURSE I had to stay near the track so I could see it first thing at dawn. What a sight that was!
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I got back on the road around 7am, intent on hitting Nashville by noon. I stopped at Boot Barn just outside the city centre and had exemplary customer service from a woman named Sherrie. Southern Hospitality at its finest. I escaped with only THREE boots and made my way downtown, eager to see what the next 36 hours had in store for me. Little did I know…
I tried to cheap-out on a hotel and pulled into the spot I had booked. First of all, it was a motel reminiscent of the Bates Motel (ew); second of all there was a 100% chance I was going to be murdered there, so I drove on like any responsible single-travelling-female would do.
Wound up at the tacky yet lovely Margaritaville downtown Nashville, downed a couple Coors Light and off I went. First stop: Tootsie’s!
When I first walked into Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge in Nashville, I was immediately struck by its vibrant purple exterior and the lively energy that seemed to pulse through the air. Stepping inside, I was greeted by walls covered in photos and memorabilia of legendary musicians, giving the place a nostalgic charm. The main floor was packed with people enjoying live country music, and I couldn’t help but tap my feet and sing along. Upstairs, the patio offered a great view of Broadway and even more live performances. It felt like I was truly experiencing the heart and soul of Nashville’s music scene. With a cold drink in hand, I soaked in the atmosphere, hoping I might just catch a glimpse of a future star.
Little did I know, I'd catch a glimpse of my next Slay
While taking in one of the most amazing country bands I’d ever seen, this tall, handsome man sat beside me. We exchanged a pleasant glance hello and smiled, I continued to enjoy the music. During a well-placed lull in the music, The Handsome Guy in Nashville sidled over and started chatting with me. Even over the buzz of the big crowd I could tell he had an accent. Not British, Not Irish…what was it?
AUSTRALIAN! TOO RIGHT MATE!
He told me he was in town with his adult son who was recording music; while Dad trolled the bars mid-day. Is there anything more perfect to be doing? I really really didn’t realize he was trolling me at the same time. He bought me a beer, we chatted more, had a tonne in common. Turns out he owns a beautiful golf course in beautiful Hunter Valley. And hey turns out, I love golf! (and golfers… see here!)
We bid adieu, and I spent the rest of the day walking along Broadway, ducking in and out of several honky-tonk bars. The music in Nashville, kinda goes without saying, is like nothing I’ve ever heard before. Just amazing! I spent a couple hours at Dierks and found a love-match with an incredible, young band led by Michael (aka Miguel Potato). Life changing shit, I tell you. Had a few tears pop into my eyes during my favourite songs. But I digress, you’re here for the hog, right?
Fast forward to the next day. I’d visited the requisite tourist sites – The Grand Ole Opry, The Bluebird Cafe (shout-out Taylor Swift) and some cool cafes. But by noon I was ready to get back at it and listen to some great music and meet new people. I found myself unironically at Barstool Nashville and wouldn’t you know it – fate was on my side – my new fave band from the day before was playing. I grabbed a few Coronas and settled in. Then it happened… “
The Handsome Guy in Nashville Slid into my DMs
“Did I want to meet for a beer and pick up where we left off?”
I must say, I did not see that coming. I thought the day before had been a kind of one-and-done beer and nice to meet ya! So I thought about it for half a second replied YES, ran back to my hotel, showered/shaved (you KNOW what I mean) and ventured off to Barstool Nashville for a second time. This time with a more <ahem> purposeful intent.
It’s always a bit nerve-racking meeting up a with dude, knowing the anticipated outcome (I DID shave) and hoping you still find each other attractive. FEAR NOT! This man was/is so freakin’ handsome, tall , suave and the accent didn’t hurt. We hunkered down in a booth and talked all things golf, as The Masters was around the corner. I impressed him immediately by spouting off sheer facts – that Adam Scott had been the last Aussie to win The Masters in 2013. He, in turn, impressed me immediately by telling me was GOING to The Masters the next weekend. The dialogue that ensued still makes me laugh…
"If I smoked great hog, would he take me to The Masters?"
Him: You ever been with an Aussie?
Me: Hmmm, do you want to f*** me?
Him: Well you’re quite direct for a good Canadian girl!
Me: Who said I was good? 😉
He went in for the sweeping kiss and lights out for me. Great kisser. Great hands. Great everything frankly. So we high-tailed it back to Jimmy Buffet’s Lair and had some great fun. I kicked him out after a little while because the Final Four was on and a girl’s got priorities.
Will probably never see The Handsome Guy in Nashville again but hey – certainly made my trip there all the more interesting.
And yes, Australians DO do it better!
