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You hadn’t been in the tiny town of Letterkenny for more than a month, yet it felt like everyone knew who you were. It was disconcerting after having lived in a city boasting over a dozen different franchisees from the same chain restaurant. But you were getting used to it.
After a long day in front of a computer screen, you wanted nothing more than to go home and crash on the couch with a bowl of ice cream and the TV remote. Alas, your new friend Katy popped into the office just as you were closing up.
“MoD3ans is having a ladies’ night,” she said, her face a mask of indifference.
“You know I don’t drink that much,” you replied, locking the office door behind you and tossing your keys into your bag.
The two of you crunched along the salt-covered walkway in silence. You knew Katy didn’t like that answer, but you were too tired to care.
“I'll buy the first two rounds. After that, you can go home and take your pants off.”
Arching your eyebrows, you shot your friend a dubious look. “Knowing how you like to party, I’d be surprised if I could get out of there after a handful of shots.”
Katy laughed, her voice bright and cheery in the crisp winter air. “I promise on my brother’s honor that I will not force you to drink more than you want.” She paused, giving you a sideways glance. “Even if I don’t share your same views on barley and rye.”
“Fine, whatever. But don’t expect me to dress up,” you said before parting ways.
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You weren’t much for getting dolled up, nor were you one for going out, but you put in a little effort for Katy’s sake. It was custom for the locals to get rowdy after chores and supper was done, so you paced your apartment, impatient to get your social obligations over with.
It was only a little after seven when you got to the bar, the walk from your place to MoD3ans being much quicker than driving your car. Stomping the snow off of your winter boots, you pulled open the door and were promptly hailed by Katy and her brother and their friends. Shedding your heavy coat, you nodded to Gail, having learned on your first visit that no amount of polite conversation with the unrestrained barkeep stayed polite for long, and made your way to the small group. They greeted you with warmth, and you felt a little more at home as you settled into the chair Squirrelly Dan pulled out for you.
Despite being an out-of-towner and a big city kid to boot, you had found your family among these wily and outrageous hicks. You might not have understood half of what they talked about or the complexity of their relationships with the rest of Letterkenny, and you probably never would. But in that moment, you felt like you belonged.