By Slim Randles
"Carnsider this for a minute, boys," Windy said, sadly shaking his head at the King Arthur memorial round table at the Mule Barn truck stop. "I mean to say, well you know them ladies actually asked me to be their speaker, right?"
We nodded and sipped our early afternoon coffee.
"I mean, all I done was tell 'em I had new thoughts on our future and suggested it would make a good speechify for their Ladies Literary League and Garden Society meeting. And after I done that for maybe a month, they invited me to come to the lunch and deliver my pregnastications for 'em. So I did. Today. Even paid for my lunch, bless 'em."
"Sounds like fun, Windy," Doc said.
"You'da thunk, eh?" Windy said. "But I was in for an existictual surprise, I can tell ya that. I mean, I had it all spread out for 'em. You know. How we was conscriptin' along toward certain abolishment of oblivity and such, and them ladies .. all of 'em ... even Mrs. Doc ... wouldn't look me in the eye.
"Well, you know I finagulated that speechify book out of the library last week in preparatory for this speech, and it said you had to make eye contact with the audience. No ... it really did. So I was eye contactin' them, but they wouldn't eye contact me back, boys. Not a one."
Windy sucked down some caffeine and looked up at the Pepsi sign over the steer horns on the wall.
"Gotta tell ya, I thought them ladies was nicer'n that. And after we was done with lunch, they didn't even look me in the eye when they thanked me for coming. Thassa fact."
"And then you came straight here, Windy?" Doc asked.
"Shore did. Straight here."
Doc started laughing. "Windy, your fly's open."
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