thumbs-up.
“And frankly, not many of the candidates were worth refreshing my condom stash. I’m
not going to waste it on people I don’t count on seeing again. And by the way, I’m
not going to take any crap from she who dates a man named Darrell.”
“Darrell is okay,” Kelsey said defensively as Angela held up a sleek gray suit with
pencil-thin slacks. I gave it two thumbs up and Kelsey vehemently shook her head.
“It’s a little too power-suit for Derby Day. And you have two like it already!”
“Don’t change the subject. Darrell is a rash on the ass cheek of humanity. He refers
to himself as a ‘theoretical entrepreneur.’ He sits at home all day playing Guild
of Dominion while he’s supposedly gathering ideas for some earth-shattering Web site
that would allow people to hold online yard sales instead of going to the trouble
of setting up card tables in their front yards. Which sounds an awful lot like eBay,
but when you bring it up, he stops talking to you. You’re only dating him to keep
your mom off your back,” I shot back as Angela huffed out a sigh and dug deeper into
the rack.
“Hey, hey, keep the gloves above the belt, Hutchins,” Kelsey muttered, a flush staining
her cheeks as she sorted through Angela’s tray of recently acquired bracelets and
costume rings.
I instantly felt a prick of shame. Kelsey’s mother was a former runner-up in the Miss
Kentucky pageant who had done her damnedest to turn Kelsey’s childhood into one long
scene from Toddlers & Tiaras . When Kelsey’s body type and pesky “personality” interfered with her mother’s plans,
Elizabeth Wade basically washed her hands of her daughter and told her she was her
future husband’s problem. As long as Kelsey had a man, her mom seemed satisfied, no
matter how screwed up that man happened to be.
“I’m sorry,” I told her as Angela rifled through the rack. “That was going too far.”
“It is what it is,” she said, shrugging. “And I am changing the subject—are we really
going to spend our girls’ night going over campaign ideas? Because with a couple of
drinks in me, I’ll agree that most anything is a good idea.”
Well, that certainly explained Darrell. But I wasn’t going to say that aloud, because
I’d already pushed her that night. Instead, I nodded toward the boxes of files she’d
toted with us to Shelbyville. Far from the office, we were going to decide, once and
for all, which theme I was going with.
The first idea—“Bizarrely Bluegrass”—was my original concept, emphasizing the quirky
aspects unique to the Bluegrass. Where else could you find oversize fiberglass chickens
and school-bus derbies alongside all of the sophistication of multimillion-dollar
research hospitals and horse culture? I would spotlight attractions like the Jefferson
Davis Monument (the aforementioned miniature Washington Monument look-alike in the
middle of nowhere), the Mother Goose House in Hazard, and, of course, Cave City. It
was fun, and a little funky, but I couldn’t help but hear Vaughn’s voice say “quirky”
in that disdainful tone.
To which I heard my own inner voice reply, “Amen!”
My other idea, “Kentucky—Something for Everybody,” was a bit sketchier. It was more
of a middle-of-the-road approach—a little bit country gentleman, a little bit redneck.
Bourbon, Fort Knox, quilt museums, barbecue festivals, and strangely themed little
roadside motels. But I didn’t like the idea that I was toning myself down, which I’d
never done before, because of Vaughn’s concerns about my quirkiness.
Vaughn’s ads and press releases promoting the Derby as a runway, as an opportunity
for ladies to come out and strut their stuff in their most ostentatious hats and suits,
was considered widely successful. And that had eliminated any sense of humility or
new-guy awkwardness. He was letting it all hang out, so to speak. He kept
“And frankly, not many of the candidates were worth refreshing my condom stash. I’m
not going to waste it on people I don’t count on seeing again. And by the way, I’m
not going to take any crap from she who dates a man named Darrell.”
“Darrell is okay,” Kelsey said defensively as Angela held up a sleek gray suit with
pencil-thin slacks. I gave it two thumbs up and Kelsey vehemently shook her head.
“It’s a little too power-suit for Derby Day. And you have two like it already!”
“Don’t change the subject. Darrell is a rash on the ass cheek of humanity. He refers
to himself as a ‘theoretical entrepreneur.’ He sits at home all day playing Guild
of Dominion while he’s supposedly gathering ideas for some earth-shattering Web site
that would allow people to hold online yard sales instead of going to the trouble
of setting up card tables in their front yards. Which sounds an awful lot like eBay,
but when you bring it up, he stops talking to you. You’re only dating him to keep
your mom off your back,” I shot back as Angela huffed out a sigh and dug deeper into
the rack.
“Hey, hey, keep the gloves above the belt, Hutchins,” Kelsey muttered, a flush staining
her cheeks as she sorted through Angela’s tray of recently acquired bracelets and
costume rings.
I instantly felt a prick of shame. Kelsey’s mother was a former runner-up in the Miss
Kentucky pageant who had done her damnedest to turn Kelsey’s childhood into one long
scene from Toddlers & Tiaras . When Kelsey’s body type and pesky “personality” interfered with her mother’s plans,
Elizabeth Wade basically washed her hands of her daughter and told her she was her
future husband’s problem. As long as Kelsey had a man, her mom seemed satisfied, no
matter how screwed up that man happened to be.
“I’m sorry,” I told her as Angela rifled through the rack. “That was going too far.”
“It is what it is,” she said, shrugging. “And I am changing the subject—are we really
going to spend our girls’ night going over campaign ideas? Because with a couple of
drinks in me, I’ll agree that most anything is a good idea.”
Well, that certainly explained Darrell. But I wasn’t going to say that aloud, because
I’d already pushed her that night. Instead, I nodded toward the boxes of files she’d
toted with us to Shelbyville. Far from the office, we were going to decide, once and
for all, which theme I was going with.
The first idea—“Bizarrely Bluegrass”—was my original concept, emphasizing the quirky
aspects unique to the Bluegrass. Where else could you find oversize fiberglass chickens
and school-bus derbies alongside all of the sophistication of multimillion-dollar
research hospitals and horse culture? I would spotlight attractions like the Jefferson
Davis Monument (the aforementioned miniature Washington Monument look-alike in the
middle of nowhere), the Mother Goose House in Hazard, and, of course, Cave City. It
was fun, and a little funky, but I couldn’t help but hear Vaughn’s voice say “quirky”
in that disdainful tone.
To which I heard my own inner voice reply, “Amen!”
My other idea, “Kentucky—Something for Everybody,” was a bit sketchier. It was more
of a middle-of-the-road approach—a little bit country gentleman, a little bit redneck.
Bourbon, Fort Knox, quilt museums, barbecue festivals, and strangely themed little
roadside motels. But I didn’t like the idea that I was toning myself down, which I’d
never done before, because of Vaughn’s concerns about my quirkiness.
Vaughn’s ads and press releases promoting the Derby as a runway, as an opportunity
for ladies to come out and strut their stuff in their most ostentatious hats and suits,
was considered widely successful. And that had eliminated any sense of humility or
new-guy awkwardness. He was letting it all hang out, so to speak. He kept
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