So there I was...
Seated at the diner, making a fresh smile at the blonde at the counter as she poured a cup of percolated Folger's morning blend. A young man drove up in a loud, open top sports car with an even younger dark skinned girl wearing a straw sun hat and purple shaded sunglasses. They came in through the door, and took a seat at the table next to me. Okay. Here's the thing. It's weird enough running in to RyanB in Kansas. It just begs the question - what the hell am I doing in Kansas?
The Sheriff sauntered over to his table, peered out the window, and eyed the two seater hot rod with suspicion and disdain. He turned to Ryan and said...
I don't like cricket, no no... Then he snapped out of his inner 10 cc. "That's a mighty fast lookin' automobile y'all got out there." He lowered his horned rimmed glasses, stared Ryan in the eye, and said "Y'all better be minding them speed limits here." And then he turned his attention to the girl. "And age limits, as well. Y'all have a good day now hear."
I got my composure together, and spoke to the young man. "That's a pretty classic looking Cobra you got there."
He gave a slight laugh, and said "Oh no, it's actually a replica."
"Really. Where did you get it?"
Ryan lowered his horned rimmed glasses and stared me in the eye. "A friend let me borrow it."
"A friend huh."
"Yeah. A friend."
They came, and they went, as the rumble of the fuel injected V8 with custom wrapped headers sped off in a cloud of dust. The fresh blonde at the counter approached me with a carafe of Folger's morning blend, newly percolated. "Would you like some more coffee?"
"Sure. Get some non-dairy creamer with that too?"
She lowered her horned-rimmed glasses with a scowl. "This here is dairy country. We ain't got none of that arty-fishial admixtures made in New Yawk City."
"Well excuuuuuuuse me."
It was like watching Wyatt Earp enter the bar, cowboy boots clanking in the dust, spurs dragging on the ground, as the long haired man with a pony tail placed his narrow silhouette in the doorway. Time stopped. Literally. The battery in the Seth Thomas Classic Series wall clock finally gave out.
"Name's Ted." He sauntered over to the counter, and took a stool.
"Yeah I know, Ted," I said. "You're Ted, not Ed, and you're here to get fed." And that is what I said.
"Seuss!" Ted said, covering his mouth with a handkerchief.
"Bless you" I said.
The waitress, and Ted, looked me up and down a bit and turned to each other... and said "I don't like..."
"Okay STOP Ted!" I said.
He lowered his thick horned-rimmed glasses, and said, "have you seen my Cobra?"
"What? Eww! No! I don't want to see your Cobra!!"
"My car, Sac."
"Oh. Um. Ted are we friends?"
"Absolutely."
"So let me ask you, let's say your Cobra was parked outside, would you let me..."
He sighed. "All right. You got me. I guess we're not that good of friends."
"Is RyanB a friend of yours?"
"Absolutely."
"What if I told him that he..."
"Oh, absolutely not. No way. No sirreee. I would immediately created a Facebook account, friend him, just so I could unfriend him in an instant if he even asked such a preposterous question." Then he lowered his thick horned-rimmed glasses. "Why do you ask?"
