Dancing was never Jensens strong suit, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

The Gruene Hall in New Braunfels, Texas. Known for its lively country music, atmosphere and most importantly…

The line dancing.

A lot of cowboys and cowgirls went there after rodeos to celebrate a certain bull rider who won or something along those lines. A lot of country artists would even perform concerts there, and some newer artists as well.

It was just an all around amazing, fun place to be… It also didn’t help it was the best damn dance hall in texas, given its history.

It was only about an hour drive from where he lived in Austin, so of course he went there with his buddies to have a few drinks and hopefully get drunk enough to get to line dance.

And obviously you had to be there as well after a rodeo, your hair slightly tussled due to dancing your heart out. Jensen was about three beers in when he finally caught your eye.

“I ain’t promisin’ m’good at dancin’, Darlin’…” He spoke loud enough for you to understand him with his lips a few inches away from your ear. “Y’aint gon’ get mad if i step on yer toes, right?”