Barks of Larch

When you fall off the horse of life, git back on and ride like hell.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Cucumber Up


(A Bark of Larch)

It was a lazy fall day in 2003 and I decided I wanted a salad. So I went to the Frogtown Grocery Store in Cumming, Georgia, a redneck North Georgia community now overrun with yuppie flat landers. At least rednecks drink real beer, not light beer or white wine. The Frogtown Produce Department always had a fresh selection of greens. I wanted a cucumber firm and crisp for my salad. I was wearing my bib overalls like the good old boys. When I weighed my cucumber on the overhead scale and tried to slip it in the plastic bag, it fell into the top of my overalls and slid between my legs. It was large and firm but I couldn’t extract it with the females in the area without causing quite a scene. As I walked, it caused quite a protrusion adding to my discomfit and embarrassment. Other female shoppers thought I was a Minister, a member of the cloth, as they lowered their eyes when they saw me. Respect, I guess.

When I lined up at the check out station. I had to stand back from the customers in front of me due to the protruding cucumber. A crowd of female shoppers gathered, smiling knowingly, as if to witness my arrest for stealing. As the clerk scanned my other goods, I told her I had a large cucumber in my overalls but I was embarrassed to pull it out. I said I was going to put it in my salad. Blushing, she said it was okay and said I could arrange payment later. She said she would love to have it in her salad. Then she handed me a piece of paper with her name, phone number, and address and said to meet her at 5 P.M. after she got off work. Mighty fine, them Frogtown people. That’s only a half hour from now, so I’ll just wait in the parking lot. With all the shoppers milling around, I couldn’t remove the cucumber. Getting into my car was a problem as the cucumber and the steering wheel had a disagreement. As I sat in my car with the cucumber sticking up into the steering wheel, some females passing by gawked so I merely said, “It’s my cucumber”. They smiled knowingly, but I thought they might think I was an exhibitionist (I can’t paint nor draw). Driving my car was a problem with the cucumber getting in the way.

When I went to her house and rang the bell, my gawd she was plumb naked. I said, “Do you want to put something on?” So she turned on the T.V. news. I said it was only a large cucumber and I wanted to show it to her to prove I wasn’t stealing, She said, “No problem”, as she opened up my bibs and reached her hot hands into my shorts. The cucumber fell to the floor. She seemed so disappointed, I don’t understand. After that, I never included cucumber in my salad. I couldn’t handle the stress, oh, my gawd.

@ Copyright December 2, 2003 Don “LARCH” Loedding

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