It was slow going, but going nonetheless. The following conversation began as follow up to one of the wizened crones talking about getting permits for her show cow (I don't know either, just stay with me).
[Editorial aside: I assure you this conversation actually happened and that, no not everyone who lives in Texas owns livestock.]Driver: So, Wizened Crone, have you gotten the permits yet to have your show cows on your property?
Wizened Crone: No, not yet.
Dora the Explorer: Why do you need permits for your cows anyway?
WC: When we first bought the property, there were no restrictions for farm animals. Now the neighbors are complaining about our cows, so we have to get the right permits to keep them.
D: Ugh. We have a neighbor like that, he's a pain in the neck. His cows are always getting out and a few weeks ago, my daughter's boyfriend was coming home and he hit one.
D: This neighbor is really crazy. I think he must have gotten a deal on potatoes one time because once I saw the bed of his Escalade filled up with potatoes and there were potatoes rolling all over the street in our neighborhood...
The cabin fills with hysterical laughter due, in part, to tales of the rural Escalade-drivin' potato bandit and a heady brew of exhaust fumes from the hour in bumper-to-bumper traffic.
D: ...I wonder what he was doing with all those potatoes.
Don't we all.
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