Cowgirls is not the kind of bar I'd normally go to; I only went because it was April's party and I was invited. As her sister I had to go and pretend to have a good time.
This was the second and last bar we went to for April's bachelorette party. It was WILD. VERY wild. There were scantily clad women dancing on the bar, shaking their "assets" at people. Occationally a patron not employed there would also get up and dance. There was a machanical bull that was very busy. Rides were free but they asked for donations and a waiver had to be signed. They started slow and would ramp it up until the person fell off. April got up there and one lady in our group with a video feature on her camera got video of it. (Blackmail time!)
Anyway, the drinks were flowing, the music was loud, the women on the bar were dancing, and one woman opperating the bull had a ripped up t-shirt on which read "Sinners Welcome" on the back. Amid all this flesh I felt an old stirring within me. I wanted to chuck God and be a part of this scene with looked so glamerous and felt so wonderful. The "old man" was trying to raise out of his coffin.
I could fight it off, but I am continually surprized by these tendencies within me. I think they are within a lot of Christians, no matter how supernatural of a conversion experience someone may have had. We can deny them, we can put them to death daily, but as long as we are in the body they will still be there, sleeping, waiting for something to awaken it.