This happened in the winter of 1993. I was living and working in Springfield Ohio, had been there maybe for a couple months. I was sad and unhappy. I was going through a divorce and missing my kids back in Cincinnati.
In an effort to cheer me up, my boss, after work, took me to a popular bar somewhere in Springfield. The place was packed with only one bartender on duty.
She was a little slip of a girl—short with long blonde hair and blue eyes. She was being overworked that night. I felt sorry for her.
Getting up from my barstool, I told my boss that whenever the bartender got around to us, to just order me a beer. I didn’t care what kind.
I walked over to the jukebox, looked over the titles and made a couple selections. I then went back to my barstool.
A little while later, as the bartender put a Miller Lite in front of me, the first song I had selected started playing on the jukebox. I looked at her. Tears were coming down the bartender’s face.
“Who in the world played that song?” The bartender said, shaking her head. She then had to wait on other customers.
It’s funny—the little things you remember. She was sad like I was.
I never got the chance to tell her it was me who played the song. Every time I listen to K.T. Oslin sing “Hold Me,” I think of that sad bartender in Springfield, Ohio in the winter of 1993.
(Image from city-data.com)