The bartender / owner or part-owner, was dressed in denim overalls and a fur vest, which made for a lasting impression. By the time that I had found a seat, Abby had been laughing up a storm with the notorious Philip, an interior decorator whose next exotic destination would be Costa Rica. As I entered, I couldn't help but notice the variety of literature near the entrance, catering to bears, cubs, military fetish, etc. Inevitably, this would happen.Ībby ran inside while I was parking, to try and open a tab. The plan was 15 minutes of cruising Little Rock for something busier and if we found nothing, Sidetracks would be our destination. There were few cars parked out front, but they at least appeared to be open. The first bar that we spotted was Sidetracks. Our options were limited and time was tight. Knowing nothing of Arkansas drinking laws and bar times, we made the assumption that 1:30AM would be the earliest time for last call.

My instinct told me to hop off of the interstate in West Little Rock to find a watering hole. We had just driven in from Oklahoma City. It was 1AM on a late summer's Sunday night.