In my story, Mooooooo, I told y’all about the time I drove down into the dry wash in Arlington, Arizona—doing about 75—and there was a herd of cows in the road. Well, a few years later, I was relating that very same story to a friend of mine up in Sacramento, California.
His name was Dan, and he was a real wise guy, so me and him got along great. He listened as I told the exciting story about how I was sliding and dodging, cows going by in a blur of brown and white, and how I finally came to a sliding halt, but hit the last cow in the butt.
Dan’s eyes were big as a cow’s butt, as he listened, nodding his head and getting more excited as I got toward the end of the story. When I finished, he shook his head side-to-side slowly and whistled real low. “Wow!” he said, seemingly quite impressed with the tale.
He leaned in closer to me and said, “So, what happens when the washes fill up with water?”
I shrugged my shoulders and said, “You can’t get where you want to go; if it’s on the other side of the wash.”
Dan looked real thoughtful for a minute—kind of gazing off into the air—then he grinned.
He leaned toward me again and said, “I’m gonna move to Arizona and make a fortune!” He was talking in a conspiratorial tone, and I started to get the idea I was about to be got; if you know what I mean.
I said, “Uhhh, okay. How you gonna make this fortune?”
He scooted in his chair and leaned even closer to me, looking around to make sure no one was eaves dropping on our conversation. “Up here in California,” he said, checking again to see that no one was listening in. “We got this miracle invention. It’s called a bridge.”
DOH!
Sherry Mashburn said
Ha!