Monday, May 19, 2008

Udder Lies

Call me a sucker:

A sucker for blue eyes.
A sucker for cowboys boots.
A sucker for a cook out & beer.
A sucker for a good dancer.



After high school I moved from Kansas City to Springfield to go to what is formerly known as SW MO State. I spent about a year in 417 land and then moved back to my birth state of North Carolina. I worked and played in the Tar Heel state for about a year and moved to Connecticut with some friends. Still young and free I was able to go where the wind blew. Things did not feel right in Connecticut so I packed up and moved back to KC on the advice of my sister. Sis informed me of this fabulous new job she had for a great computer company with a marketing theme based on a cow and a box.

I began working for the cow computer company by attending an eight week training program. Consider it a crash course in computers before the Internet was readily available and the hottest selling item was a 166 with 16MB; we called it "The Happy Meal" as it was packaged with a 15" monitor and ink jet printer for 1599.00.

During my eight week boot camp we eat, sleep and breath cows and computers. The class spends all day together and then socializes at night together. There was a great mix of people from all walks of life. We enjoyed our time together but I enjoyed one particular class mate more than others. I was smitten with Daddy the minute I saw him in his cowboys boots and v-neck sweater. He was charming and funny and knew more about my home town than I did, which intrigued me since he had only been there a couple of years. The strange thing was, although we all knew each other's names, we did not use them, we used what I will call "stage names". Kind of like strippers, but with clothes and less money or attention. The first thing they do is change our names. We would be working in a call center setting so you can imagine how many folks have the same name: I don't want my commission going to someone else. We are told to pick three names that we like and the one that is available will be our new identity. Our new name will even go on our name badge. My new identity would be Kendall and Daddy was known as Gannon.

Our training was close to an end when Daddy mentioned to me he was having a celebration cookout at his house in honor of our graduation. He drew a map for me and gave me his number. I was a little nervous and decided to dress like I didn't care. I wore my black cowboy boots, jeans, white button down, and my Yankees ball cap.

When I pulled up to the house as indicated on the map I thought I had read the directions wrong. There were no cars in the drive and no one in sight. I rang the bell to be sure. Daddy answered the door. I walked in to his Westport home to hear David and David on the stereo and no grill in sight. The only thing in the fridge was the brand of beer I was known to drink, some ketchup, and some relish. So much for a cookout. Daddy and I had a beer and talked a while. He looked at his watch and said "I guess it's just me and you tonight". (Maybe becasue he did not invite anyone else from training)

We never made it to dinner but filled up on drinks and dancing. Before I knew it he had taken over my spare closet and had stolen my spare key.


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8 comments:

Joeprah said...

That is a great story! I can't believe how much you remember about that night let alone that time frame in your life. Good Stuff.

MarĂ­a said...

Yeah - what Joeprah said!

Anonymous said...

That really was a fun story. Thanks for sharing!!

Putz said...

was that you or reba???or do you have several handles??? is this the girl with the big red hair that is as cute as a butten, rememberer i asked if you could be teased...the one high on life???

The Rev. said...

Great story-

I quite often have the best times with my lady when we're alone, seemingly bored by some people's standards, rather than when we're out in big crowds.

I actually just returned from a weekend in Kansas City with her; our last night together was spent playing pool at an otherwise empty bar, and we had an absolute blast.


-The Rev.

KG said...

Aww - reading a post like this makes me miss my hubby!

BusyDad said...

Great tattoo story! So true, I may not like all my tattoos half as much anymore (4), but each one tells a story (even if just to myself) and for that, they are worth keeping.

Rebecca (Ramblings by Reba) said...

I'm LATE getting over here to read your story, but I'm glad I made it. Great story, and I love how you wrote it, too! Thanks for participating!