Wednesday, June 8, 2011

What I Should Have Said

I promise, I was going to post on the rain barrels today.  But I'm interrupting myself because what happened yesterday evening is just too absurd to pass up, and to add a little suspense and expectation to Blogland (regarding the rain barrels).

As I was making calzones last night, someone knocked at the door.  I opened it to be greeted by a young man who was trying to get rid of a bunch of meat in his van, which struck me as odd but I listened to his spiel anyway.  And he occasionally interjected with lines such as:

Meat Boy: What's that?  Over there...on the door?

Me: A spider.

Meat Boy: A spider?  Oh, yuck!  I don't do the country!

(More about the meat, then...)

Meat Boy (finally noticing the dough on my hands): Was I interrupting something?

Me: I was making calzones.

Meat Boy: Making calzones?

Me: Yeah, I make them from scratch.

Meat Boy: GET OUT!

(Trying to get me to come out to the van to see this mystery meat, but I'm not budging and am beginning to wonder where Byron is, then...)

Meat Boy: (pointing) What are those over there?

Me: Cows.

Meat Boy: Cows? Are they pets?

Me: No, we're raising them for meat.

Meat Boy: GET OUT!

Oh, I how wished he would get out (he eventually did after I told him I wasn't interested).  And then I began to wish I was quick on my feet.  I'm one of those people who kicks herself for days because I think of a witty response after the fact.  However, I posted this incident on Facebook and am now inspired for the next clueless visitor who comes along.  Here are some suggestions from friends, as well as some of my after-the-fact thoughts, as to the alternate identity of our cows:

1. Big dogs
2. Big dogs we're going to eat.
3. Spotted African Pygmy Elephants
4. Ligers
5. Baby dragons whose eggs we found in the chicken's nest box and who have not sprouted wings yet.
6. Bos taurus (that's the scientific which it would be great fun to preface with, "flesh-eating")

Or maybe I should just carry around a shotgun and some chewing tobacco and practice my, "You ain't from around these parts, are you?" line.  I'm open to suggestions.

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