Nickel A Shine!

Nashville holds many memories for me.


When I lived in Nashville in 1995-96, I spent a lot of time at the Wildhorse Saloon. My dance friends and I would go almost every night of the week, it was my home away from home. One of my friends worked at the boot shine stand. She said they were looking for another girl, and I applied. I worked the boot shine stand for close to a year as a second job. That was probably the most interesting job I've ever had.

The process of shining boots was so fun to learn, I loved all the steps. I loved whitening the laces, buffing the wax, and at the Wildhorse boot stand, we signed each pair of boots we shined with our initials on the inside of one of the heels.

I didn't mind the calf massages either. Although, I remember one portly gentleman who had a hard time holding in the gas while I was rubbing his calves. And as you can see from the picture, the boot shine chair was elevated, so imagine the general vicinity of my head in relation to where excess gas might be released....horrifying.

The boot shines were $6, and most guys would give me either a $10 or a $20 and tell me to keep the change. A few times I got $50 tips, and once I got a $100 tip. On a good night I'd do 10-20 shines, and walk out with at least $150. I sold cigars also, and most of the guys tipped on those as well. Wildhorse was a big tourist attraction in those days, because of the Wildhorse Saloon dance show on CMT, so on a Saturday night the place would be packed with business men and people on vacation. Sometimes I'd have a line of folks waiting for a shine.

I worked on Saturday nights, so I got to see the concerts while I worked. I'll never forget the night Chris LeDoux played, and the Wildhorse was PACKED with real cowboys. That night, the part of the boot shine process in which I cleaned the boots was put to the test. Most guys' boots weren't really dirty, but these real cowboys' boots were covered in cow dung.

I loved that on Saturday nights, that little corner of the world was mine. I loved that I was a specialty person, not part of a crowd of waiters. And I loved that I was like a little ruffian orphan boy in the Great Depression, just with a better outfit.

I just loved that job.