It was a bass plug on a clothespin, and he'd suggested, only
slightly in jest, that when she met a nice man, she was to clip it
to her ear as a reminder to stop talking and just smile. She had
it clipped to her collar. It made for a good conversation starter at
the coffeepot.
So far, Mrs. Richardson hadn't said a word except to thank the
woman at the door for the blank name tag. She wrote "Mrs.
Richardson" on it and pinned it beneath the bass
plug/clothespin/love fly from the Fly Fishing Love Center right here
in our town.
Then she poured herself a cup of coffee, while smiling quietly,
and waited for the magic to work.
He came over and she smiled and nodded.
"Mrs. Richardson? So you're divorced? No? Oh, you must be widowed
like me then. Oh, I see. I'm sorry. Isn't it terrible to lose them?
I used to tell Doris, I said, 'Doris, I don't know what I'd do
without you so I have to die first.' Yes, I can see you know what I
mean. But I lost her first.
"Know what, Mrs. Richardson? That pin you're wearing looks a lot
like a type of bass bug I use around here. It is? Well what
...! So you're a fisherman too, I take it? No? Well, you're never
too old to learn, are you? Of course not. Say, you're not very
talkative, are you? No. You don't have to say a thing. I rather like
quiet women, actually. Especially when they sip coffee so quietly
and ladylike.
[to top of second
column] |
"You know how to fish that particular fly, Mrs. Richardson? You
cast it to a quiet part of the lake and let it sit there until all
the rings in the water around it disappear. Then you just twitch the
end of the fly rod just a little ... here, let me show you. I hope
you don't mind my holding your casting hand like this. So when those
rings disappear, we're going to give that rod just a slight twitch.
Drives the bass crazy.
"Uh, Mrs. Richardson, would you be interested in learning more
about fly fishing? Yes? Oh, that's great. Could I ... I mean, maybe
we could have dinner and talk about it one of these days? Really?
Oh, that would be good.
"Listen Mrs. R., you do talk, don't you?"
"Yes, I do."
"This is the best meeting I've ever attended!"
On the way home, Mrs. Richardson smiled quietly and drove. She
might never speak again ... except to tell Marvin Pincus he's a
genius.
[Text from file received from Slim Randles]
Brought to you by the national award-winning
book "A Cowboy's Guide to Growing Up Right." Read a free sample at
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