Hello, Cowboy…

Author: Modesty

Named after a fictional British spy from the 1960s, she's a stickler for manners, tradition, and has a love of the finer things in life, mixed with a naughty sense of humor and a vocabulary, once released, could make a stevedore blush. She hates run-on sentences like the one you just read.

Jingle jangle…

I heard him before I saw him…jingle jangle, jingle, jingle.
Sitting in the lounge area of the car dealership, I saw the source of the noise out of the corner of my eye.
It was a cowboy, dressed all in black, wearing expensive alligator boots…with spurs. Yes…spurs.

Who wears spurs into a car dealership, especially one in the suburbs? We’re not the horsy set here; the horse people are in the county next door, with their stables and riding schools, not where I was this morning. (We’re the lacrosse people where I live.)

I tried not to stare, but I did take a picture of his feet…and knew I had to call Sparky. This required going outside because I knew I’d start laughing, and I wasn’t wrong.

Conversation: Sparky…I’m at the car dealership. Well good for you, Sissy…having fun? Actually, I am. There’s a cowboy here. And he’s wearing spurs. Oh no he is not! No, he really is…here’s a picture of his feet. 

Two seconds later, peals of laughter so loud you could hear it in the service bay…

Later when I came back in, I took the photo you see here. Maybe he thought it was a Mustang dealership?

(It turns out the Brandywine Horse Show started today, which is less than 1/4 mile from the dealership).