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 “Dud Campbell,” Anita said the other night, “what are you getting
me for Christmas?”
“Now Honey, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it?”
“That means you haven’t bought it yet, doesn’t it?”
“Well, I won’t say I have and I won’t say I haven’t, but, uh, don’t
get in that cupboard out in the garage now…”
“I won’t, Honey,” she said, purring.
Ten minutes later, Dud was flipping his coffee cup upright and
sliding into his place in the line of scrimmage at the philosophy
counter of the Mule Barn truck stop.
“I’m dead meat, guys,” he said.
We inquired as to why this emotional putrefaction should be setting
in, and he said, “I don’t have anything for Anita for Christmas and
I have no idea what to get her.”
“Let’s look at this scientifically for a moment,” said Steve. “What
kinda stuff does she like?”
“Uh … well … “
“You don’t know, do you?” said Doc.
“Not a clue.”
“Does she read? You can pick up a couple of books.”
“I don’t really know.”
“Does she knit?”
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column] |
“Beats me.”
“I got it,” said Herb Collins. “You can get her a gift certificate
to a store and let her pick out her own gift.”
“She said if I ever did anything so
insensitive, she’d brain me with a skillet.”
So Dud headed home, only to find the garage door open and Anita
standing there holding his brand-new Homelite XL chainsaw. He only
had time enough to mumble “Our Father…” when Anita set it down
gently and flung herself in his arms.
“Oh Honey, how did you know I wanted a Homelite XL with automatic
oiler and a 16-inch bar? I couldn’t help myself. I looked in the
cupboard and found it. It’s just what I’ve always wanted.”
“Well, Darlin’,” Dud said in his suavest voice, “I do try to be
sensitive to your needs.”
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
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