A VIOLIN screeches loudly from the speaker next to my ear as the band on stage charge into another frantic fiddle solo.
The piercing shriek startles me so much that I drop my fried bologna sandwich – something the locals had insisted I sample.
It’s fatty and salty, with crunchy lettuce and a spicy kiss from the drizzle of hot sauce.
This is how they eat on a night out in Nashville, Tennessee.
A fried meaty treat in a packed-out bar, accompanied by an unending playlist of country classics.