"Well, looky here, guys," said Doc. "It's the one and only Manure
Man!" "Thank you kindly, dear friends and fans," Dewey said,
flipping his cup to the upright and fillable position. "I'll always
remember the little people, you know ... even when the film of my
life makes 'Rain Man' take a back seat."
"So you haven't told her yet?" Dud asked.
"Told her what?" Dewey asked, with a smirk.
"That you aren't really nuts."
"Jury's still out on that one, Dud," Doc said.
"Well, hauling fertilizer for a living hasn't entered the
conversation yet," Dewey said, "if that's what you mean. Some things
are better left unsaid while we're doing all this research. Did you
know that I'm an anomaly?"
We stared at him.
"Well, that's what she said. And… she also said I was an
attractive man."
"That settles it," Steve said. "She's the one who's crazy!"
"I have a question… Dewey, did you… well, you know how you're
sometimes a bit… accident-prone? Did you make it through dinner
without any wrecks?"
"Sure did," he said, smiling. "Made it almost to the truck, too."
"Almost?"
[to top of second
column] |
"Well, I kinda stepped on her foot. It was an accident, of
course."
"Of course."
Dewey recalled the pain on her face by the soft, romantic light
of the parking lot light poles, and how her grimace set off those
precious, perfect cheekbones.
"That was the only wreck all evening, though. I swear. I was
really careful."
There was a certain fatalism in all this. If Emily Stickles,
graduate student in psychology and county watchdog, was going to
pursue Dewey as a friend or just a thesis subject, she'd have to get
used to sore feet.
Dewey smiled. "I got to help her to the truck."
Ahhhh…!
[Text from file received from Slim Randles]
Brought to you by Slim's new book and great
stocking-stuffer, "A Cowboy's Guide to Growing Up Right." Learn more
at
http://www.nmsantos.com/Slim/Slim.html.
|