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Friday night at the Rockin’ R reflected what kind of week it had been for the patrons. There were always tourists, more in the summer and during hunting season, but there were some who came for the snowmobiling or cross-country skiing. Because the bar sat along the highway between Centennial and Laramie, they got regulars from both directions. Ranch hands, paid every Friday, packed the Rockin’ R to drink, dance to the live music, play pool or darts, and hope to get lucky with one of the females. On a good week, John, the owner, wouldn’t have to throw anyone out or call Shaun to make out a report. The bad weeks, of which there were few, had him closing early. Tonight, tables filled up slowly as the band did a sound check. John gauged the crowd as relaxed and thought it would be a good n
