We arrived safely and from down the block heard the band's opening tune.
"That's loud, huh?" John Boy asked me. "I don't really like loud music."

"Oh, that's a shame," I warned, "because we stand and dance down front and
it is pretty loud there."

"I guess I can deal with it this once," he said taking my hand in his to walk in
the bar.

Individually, my friends were sweet, nice women, but together as a group on
Girls Night Out, they were a rough crowd with mouths like sailors. They can be
downright ruthless as a whole, especially to someone such as John Boy
appearing in his khaki pants, thin belt and pastel checked oxford shirt.

"Where'd you find Opie?" asked one friend who started to laugh. "Mayberry?"

"No, he's not from THAT show. This is John," I said, introducing him around
and exchanging names. "And he has a contact buzz from your smoke," I
informed them.

He giggled right along with them. And he started drinking kamakazis when
someone bought a pitcher.

Not only was my group of 5 or so friends there that night, but it seemed no
matter what part of the bar, whatever room I went to or walked through, there
were more people who knew me who asked where I found Opie.

So I had the wrong t.v. show in mind. You get the picture. John Boy. Opie.
Opie could have grown up to be John Boy. Or vise verse.

Opie was conversational, but he said that was probably just the pot talking and
ordinarily he didn't relate to people.  He relocated to Jersey, then came back
home.

"Do you know Bruce?" my wise-ass friends asked him. "What about Little
Steven? Do you like "The Disciples of Soul?" And then, "do you relate to trees
then? Inanimate objects? Cows? Sheep?"

"Come on," I said, pulling him away to an open space at the bar a little further
away for his comfort before he got wiplash from shaking his head no.

No sooner did we sit down, Norman leaped from the stage to the bar top and
danced down the long bar and then back up the bar playing guitar. I couldn't
hear or understand what Opie was telling me. Norm stepped on his hand on the
bar? Not just once on the way down but a second time on the way back up?

"You didn't MOVE your hand at least the second time after you already had it
stepped on once?" I asked pointlessly. Opie just giggled and shook his head no
once again.

About then, Norman started to get raunchy. G Spot. Oral Sex. Having sex with
his high school friend in her basement when her dad walked in on them. No
topic was off limits.
Opie was laughing? At Norm? This was not how I imagined
it would be. Opie was having fun and there was supposed to be no fun allowed.

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