told him, “Yeah, um, I didn’t get any of that Dan-o. You’re gonna have to repeat everything so I can write it down, m‘kay?”
Danny paused for one beat, and then two, and then busted his gut laughing in my ear.
He waited for me to get a pen and paper, double checked that I was ready and set and in note-taking position, and then ran through the entire set of directions again, adding in cute anecdotes like, “If you get to the bush that looks like a set of balls with elephantiasis, you’ve gone too far.”
I wasn’t sure, but I was considering going too far just so that I could see such a bush.
After I got off the phone with Danny, I spent a good fifteen minutes contemplating what to wear. I wanted to look cute of course, I always wanted to look cute. But I was also thinking about the fact that he was so adamant about a long sleeve shirt. From that, I could extrapolate that I would probably need some long pants too. But it was southern Alabama in mid-July. Translation: It was hotter than Hades. Therefore, I settled on wearing a pair of white, jean, cutoff shorts and a baby blue camisole and would just take a pair of older, worn jeans with me.
They were still cute, with holes worn through at the knees. Luckily, I came by the holes honestly and hadn’t bought them from the store that way. What a waste of money.
Anyway, they were cute, but they were old enough that it really wasn’t a big deal if they got ruined somehow.
I had a long sleeve shirt packed, something I always threw in just in case, but I very meaningfully closed the suitcase and zipped it with the shirt still inside.
Sue me, but I wanted to wear Danny’s shirt. Whether he liked me or not, I was going to take advantage of the opportunity.
I had been in my own world for awhile, easily occupied by all of the clothing decisions, but I was finally ready. Turning around with a heavy sigh, I came face to face with Allison. She was seated on the edge of the bed, completely ready, and wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top of her own. The shorts were dark denim, the tank top a pale pink, and her feet donned flip flops.
Flip flops sounded nice, but once again, I was torn.
Deciding what was good for the goose was good for the gander, I settled on wearing flip flops and taking my boots along, much like I was doing with my bottoms.
“Ready?” Allison asked.
“Yeah, I’m about as decisive as a squirrel in the middle of the road while a car bears down on it, but I’m finally ready,” I replied, and then huffed a deep, mildly aggrieved sigh.
“A simple “I’m ready” would have sufficed,” Allison informed me.
I gave her a look, one that said I was so not in the mood to be messed with, and luckily, she picked up the hint, cradled it in her arms like a football, and ran with it.
Smiling gently, she tossed me my wristlet and phone, grabbed hers, linked arms with me, and led us out of the room.
As soon as we pulled up in Danny’s gravel driveway, things got interesting.
The drive over had been pretty simple.
Top down.
Music blaring.
Sunglasses on and bodies bopping.
But when we pulled up in front of the house, climbed out of the car, and saw that Danny and his uncle were standing outside on the porch all hell broke loose.
Don’t worry, they didn’t start shooting at us or anything.
It’s just that when Danny’s uncle stepped out from the shadows, it became unquestionably clear that he was a motherfucking clone of Tim McGraw.
And just like that...Bam!
Allison fainted.
No joke. She made it around to my side of the car, the side closest to the house, took one good, long look at Timmy Two, and passed right the hell out.
Thank God I caught her. I’ll admit, it was a struggle getting us both down to the ground gently under her weight, but I somehow managed it.
However, I would never, ever tell her that. If she asked I would be all, “Light as a fucking feather, Madre. You were so light I balanced you on my pinky finger for
Danny paused for one beat, and then two, and then busted his gut laughing in my ear.
He waited for me to get a pen and paper, double checked that I was ready and set and in note-taking position, and then ran through the entire set of directions again, adding in cute anecdotes like, “If you get to the bush that looks like a set of balls with elephantiasis, you’ve gone too far.”
I wasn’t sure, but I was considering going too far just so that I could see such a bush.
After I got off the phone with Danny, I spent a good fifteen minutes contemplating what to wear. I wanted to look cute of course, I always wanted to look cute. But I was also thinking about the fact that he was so adamant about a long sleeve shirt. From that, I could extrapolate that I would probably need some long pants too. But it was southern Alabama in mid-July. Translation: It was hotter than Hades. Therefore, I settled on wearing a pair of white, jean, cutoff shorts and a baby blue camisole and would just take a pair of older, worn jeans with me.
They were still cute, with holes worn through at the knees. Luckily, I came by the holes honestly and hadn’t bought them from the store that way. What a waste of money.
Anyway, they were cute, but they were old enough that it really wasn’t a big deal if they got ruined somehow.
I had a long sleeve shirt packed, something I always threw in just in case, but I very meaningfully closed the suitcase and zipped it with the shirt still inside.
Sue me, but I wanted to wear Danny’s shirt. Whether he liked me or not, I was going to take advantage of the opportunity.
I had been in my own world for awhile, easily occupied by all of the clothing decisions, but I was finally ready. Turning around with a heavy sigh, I came face to face with Allison. She was seated on the edge of the bed, completely ready, and wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top of her own. The shorts were dark denim, the tank top a pale pink, and her feet donned flip flops.
Flip flops sounded nice, but once again, I was torn.
Deciding what was good for the goose was good for the gander, I settled on wearing flip flops and taking my boots along, much like I was doing with my bottoms.
“Ready?” Allison asked.
“Yeah, I’m about as decisive as a squirrel in the middle of the road while a car bears down on it, but I’m finally ready,” I replied, and then huffed a deep, mildly aggrieved sigh.
“A simple “I’m ready” would have sufficed,” Allison informed me.
I gave her a look, one that said I was so not in the mood to be messed with, and luckily, she picked up the hint, cradled it in her arms like a football, and ran with it.
Smiling gently, she tossed me my wristlet and phone, grabbed hers, linked arms with me, and led us out of the room.
As soon as we pulled up in Danny’s gravel driveway, things got interesting.
The drive over had been pretty simple.
Top down.
Music blaring.
Sunglasses on and bodies bopping.
But when we pulled up in front of the house, climbed out of the car, and saw that Danny and his uncle were standing outside on the porch all hell broke loose.
Don’t worry, they didn’t start shooting at us or anything.
It’s just that when Danny’s uncle stepped out from the shadows, it became unquestionably clear that he was a motherfucking clone of Tim McGraw.
And just like that...Bam!
Allison fainted.
No joke. She made it around to my side of the car, the side closest to the house, took one good, long look at Timmy Two, and passed right the hell out.
Thank God I caught her. I’ll admit, it was a struggle getting us both down to the ground gently under her weight, but I somehow managed it.
However, I would never, ever tell her that. If she asked I would be all, “Light as a fucking feather, Madre. You were so light I balanced you on my pinky finger for
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