...in which our heroine continues her quest to breathe life into her inner cowgirl.
HEROINE: [walks into western wear emporium, sees handsome, slightly older cowboy with sky-blue eyes carrying a stick-horsie back to the stick-horsie barrel] I woulda' figured you for a bigger horse.
SALES COWBOY: [obviously delighted, speechless, smiling]
later, at the cash register as I turned to leave:
SC: Thanks for smiling at me. You just made my day.
H: What? Has someone been mistreating you today?
SC: No, but until you smiled at me, it was a pretty ordinary day.
If I hadn't already made the purchase, I would have figured I was being given a sales pitch.
He helped me choose a shirt for that little singing gig thing I did Saturday night. Nice guy. You single women need to start wearing western wear, is all I'm saying.
Singing Saturday night, I did a Patsy Cline tune. The program was packed and a little pressed for time, otherwise, I would have told the story of the last time I sang that song in public. I was in a karaoke bar in London, and a toothless 70-something man fell in LURVE with me, followed me around all night. This time, I wanted to step up to the mic and say "Now, last time I sang this in public, a toothless 70-something man fell in love with me, and if any of you 70-something men take a mind to fall in love with me, you need to know up front I have a 4 tooth minimum."
But, I wimped out, and didn't say anything, just grinned like a loon. I was worried that little bit of patter would make me forget all 23 words of the song. Honestly. Lily-livered!
A couple girls got up on stage and sang some hideous new country duet about something like "is he loving you like he's loving me" and my sister and I were in paroxysms over the icky-ness of it all. I mean, YUCK! Why didn't they just mug down and make out on stage? As if you'd ever say "well, I know you're boinking my guy, but, um, well, okay." The new country has gone to the dark side and totally crossed-over into Whitney Houston world. *cootie spray*
Then the Patsy Cline topic erupted and sis said she couldn't believe Patsy sang that awful song "Foolin' Around", which pretty much says I know you're just a horn-dog and are going to fool around, so I'm going to break up with you so after you fool around with other women, you can come fool around with me.
Me: Sheesh! Patsy really did a song like that?
Me: Can you imagine - just saying you're basically okay with that arrangement?
Sis: Exactly. I'd be like "after you fool around with those other women, come over here so I can shoot you."
I love my baby sis! She's yet another family Bad Ass™.