So I promised the tale of Jimmy the Tattooed Texan. Again, the story starts, this one time, at horsey camp… Why is it my mother always gets me into these adventures?
Horsey camp with Allison starts by a trip to the cafeteria… to check out the cowboys. Trust me, we weren’t there looking at the way the jell-o jiggled. This particular year it was a pretty sorry offering. Nerd dad and his crew were starting to look appealing until we actually saw some guys under the age of 50 saunter into the feast. From afar, there was promise.
Up close, there was a dog collar. What’s a cowgirl to do?
Well, being Al, who’s quite used to being hit on by every male in the country, you strike up a conversation. And those of us who know and love Al know that her conversations aren’t for the faint of heart. She talked. Jimmy flirted. She talked. Jimmy got confused. She talked. Jimmy left for a smoke. She talked. Jimmy made our camp fire. She talked. Jimmy had a beer. She talked. Jimmy passed out. She kept talking.
(Love you, Al. Hope Wade is ready for you!)
Anyway, Sandy, being the good mother who has probably earned a grey hair or two worrying about what trouble Al and I were getting into, started pondering Jimmy’s fashion sense. The longhorn tattooed around his bicep? Well, maybe that’s a little odd, but he’s from Texas and shoot, Leslie has a flower on her toe so maybe tattoos aren’t bad. But she got a little hung up on the studded dog collar. Do you blame her? Do you want your daughter dating a man with metal spikes around his neck?
So Sandy started asking questions. Hmm, wonder where Al gets it? She started by asking us what we thought about that thing he wore. We hypothesized. We dreamt up excuses. We laughed. We may have even made a mean joke or two.
And then we heard the truth. Seems Jimmy had been in a car accident and nearly had his head taken off. When he took off the dog collar, he had a large scar that circled the front of his neck.
Turns out Jimmy was a shy guy who was self-conscious. Never would have guessed the semi-pro football lineman with a dog collar could be so self-conscious.
I guess we're all a little like Jimmy, hiding scars underneath some pretty mean and prickly exteriors.
We were going to exchange email addresses but Jimmy confessed to not being able to read very well so that was that. Hope he’s happy making campfires somewhere.
1. Diss: 4 pages. Not nearly enough. This is so hard.
2. Diet: Even harder than writing. I did manage to make a decent meal today so I'll have some leftovers rather than peanut butter and jelly.
3. Organization: Started my Christmas gifts list. There's a slight chance I may be able to finish all my gifts on time this year, maybe.
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