Yep, it’s true… Texas is a mighty friendly place. Now mind you, we have our share of people who strikingly resemble the south end of a north bound horse - and some of them are just as smart. But on the whole, if you smile at a local down here they will be happy to smile back. If you stop one and ask directions, they will be as helpful as they can. We even have some that are so friendly they would strike up a conversation with a fence post if nothing else was around. The latter is what I figured I had come across in the airport a few years back.
It was a long fight back from where ever it was I was coming back from. After several unexpended delays, another soft drink and several extra bags of peanuts, I had some pressing business to attend to first thing upon my arrival.
Using the “facilities” on an airplane during flight is unnerving to me for some reason, especially when comes to the procedure explained by adding one and one together. Somehow, the jerking undulation of the planes movement in flight and the sound of air screaming past the fuselage of the aircraft at 700 mile per hour makes for very intense experience - especially in the venerable position of sitting down. I just know with the slightest rivet failure or an inadvertent flush I could be sucked out of the plane, though the toilet, whole.
I don’t know why but free falling thirty thousand feet with my pants down around my ankles and my naked butt exposed to all of creation is just not how I what to leave this life. Then I guess this is just a little phobia of mine that your probably are not really interested in hearing about. Sorry, let me get back to my story.
As I rounded the corner into the restroom and flew into the first empty stall I saw, a sense of relief came over me as I had made it. I was barely sitting down when I heard a voice from the other stall saying in a long, slow Texas drawl: "Hi, how are ya?"
Shocked at hearing the question I looked over in the direction of the voice. What even shocked me more is that before I knew it I responded, somewhat embarrassed, “Doin’ just fine!”
I bend down as far a could to looked under the stall and saw these shinny new cowboy boots with a brand new pair of blue jeans draped over them. My first thought was, “Oh Lord, Billy Bob’s done come to town.” I would have been willing to bet that he was sitting there wearing his cowboy hat too.
Then the other guy says: "So what are you up to?"
Allright!!! That’s just too darn friendly if you ask me, but I figured he didn’t mean any harm and was just being a good ol’ boy. So in an effort to be neighborly I said, "Uhhh, I'm like you, just traveling!"
I could see in my minds eye the last time he was in a situation like this was down on the farm, sitting in an outhouse talking to the cows and chickens as they passed by.
I’m now concentrating on finishing my business in order to get out as fast as I could when I hear another question. "Can I come over?"
OK!!!. That question just crossed the line - good ol’ boy or not.
As politely as I could I tried to end the conversation by saying, "No........I'm a little busy right now!!!"
Then his thick Texas accent took on a rather perturbed sound as he said… "Listen, I'll have to call you back. There's an idiot in the other stall who keeps answering all my questions!!!"
I don’t think I have ever been quieter in my whole life than during the next few minutes. As the other fella exited his stall I just sat. I didn’t hear anyone else enter the restroom and I didn’t make any attempt to leave. I wanted to make sure that my new friend not only had time to leave the restroom but the airport terminal as a whole.
As I sat there in my solitude I became painfully aware that I was now officially included in that share of Texans who strikingly resemble the south end of a north bound horse - and I felt just as smart too.
It was a long fight back from where ever it was I was coming back from. After several unexpended delays, another soft drink and several extra bags of peanuts, I had some pressing business to attend to first thing upon my arrival.
Using the “facilities” on an airplane during flight is unnerving to me for some reason, especially when comes to the procedure explained by adding one and one together. Somehow, the jerking undulation of the planes movement in flight and the sound of air screaming past the fuselage of the aircraft at 700 mile per hour makes for very intense experience - especially in the venerable position of sitting down. I just know with the slightest rivet failure or an inadvertent flush I could be sucked out of the plane, though the toilet, whole.
I don’t know why but free falling thirty thousand feet with my pants down around my ankles and my naked butt exposed to all of creation is just not how I what to leave this life. Then I guess this is just a little phobia of mine that your probably are not really interested in hearing about. Sorry, let me get back to my story.
As I rounded the corner into the restroom and flew into the first empty stall I saw, a sense of relief came over me as I had made it. I was barely sitting down when I heard a voice from the other stall saying in a long, slow Texas drawl: "Hi, how are ya?"
Shocked at hearing the question I looked over in the direction of the voice. What even shocked me more is that before I knew it I responded, somewhat embarrassed, “Doin’ just fine!”
I bend down as far a could to looked under the stall and saw these shinny new cowboy boots with a brand new pair of blue jeans draped over them. My first thought was, “Oh Lord, Billy Bob’s done come to town.” I would have been willing to bet that he was sitting there wearing his cowboy hat too.
Then the other guy says: "So what are you up to?"
Allright!!! That’s just too darn friendly if you ask me, but I figured he didn’t mean any harm and was just being a good ol’ boy. So in an effort to be neighborly I said, "Uhhh, I'm like you, just traveling!"
I could see in my minds eye the last time he was in a situation like this was down on the farm, sitting in an outhouse talking to the cows and chickens as they passed by.
I’m now concentrating on finishing my business in order to get out as fast as I could when I hear another question. "Can I come over?"
OK!!!. That question just crossed the line - good ol’ boy or not.
As politely as I could I tried to end the conversation by saying, "No........I'm a little busy right now!!!"
Then his thick Texas accent took on a rather perturbed sound as he said… "Listen, I'll have to call you back. There's an idiot in the other stall who keeps answering all my questions!!!"
I don’t think I have ever been quieter in my whole life than during the next few minutes. As the other fella exited his stall I just sat. I didn’t hear anyone else enter the restroom and I didn’t make any attempt to leave. I wanted to make sure that my new friend not only had time to leave the restroom but the airport terminal as a whole.
As I sat there in my solitude I became painfully aware that I was now officially included in that share of Texans who strikingly resemble the south end of a north bound horse - and I felt just as smart too.
Jim
Just so you know, I'm the on wearing the hat.
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