Friday, July 18, 2014

The Women of Pagosa Springs, Colorado...

...are amazing!!!

It was early in June that I spied a pair of Metros lounging on the veranda of a cabin. Eggbert's been having some issues and I surmised with TWO, surely their person would know a good mechanic; I pulled into the drive and banged on the door. Eventually Dana showed up and boy was she worth it!

I've never heard a woman talk cars, let alone Metro's the way she could. She knew all about 'em and actually had three, the third being a Suzuki Tracker. But it had been rolled and was no longer seeing action. When I asked how she came to be an aficionado she said it was partly cuz she had five older brothers, three rednecks and two others. When I asked who did her mechanicin', she proudly said her 19-year-old son did most of it. 

She's been delivering papers for 12 years and is partial to her 2000 hatchback. She commented that she goes through tie rod ends pretty fast and after three deer and an elk it looks a bit worse for wear, but is still going strong. But what fotched me up on my behimes was when I suggested negotiating with Andy Martin of Eco-Motors in Albuquerque for a custom-built and she said, "I have tits, I can negotiate." Somehow, it seemed related to the brothers.

She'd recently separated from a long-term relationship and has had a few sporting friends, but now, after two marriages, was looking forward to tying the knot one more time. So if you're looking for one that doesn't need you...or your shit, you might try bangin' on her door.

An hour later I was perusing the dairy case at City Market when a woman who'd been hefting a 6 oz thingie of yogurt turned to me and with a disgusted tone said, "Two dollars for that?! I can make it myself for less. I don't THINK so!"  "Absolutely!" I emphatically agreed (I've learned you gotta watch it at times like this...people can be dangerous.) 

I inquired if there wasn't another store and she said "No, we're stuck with this one, in hell!" The delivery was hilarious and as I laughed she took a hold of my forearm and began a tale of how she was raising fryer chickens and was upset because she'd lost 1/3 of her flock to heart attacks.

She blamed the breeder's website as it didn't warn that although genetically designed to be edible within two months, they gained weight so fast their hearts couldn't keep up. According to the forums, 1/3 loss was typical. But, as mentioned, this wasn't explained on the website and it was only after the fact she'd uncovered the truth.

Her grip tightened and she hit her stride. As I stood there wondering how much I could insinuate from the contact, she told how the second batch she'd ordered weren't adapted to high altitude and soon started keeling over. Furthermore, they, batch #2, declared war on the first and had pecked one to death before she could intervene. Her husband put up a fence between the factions, but the antagonists spent all day glaring at the others. For once I found myself at a loss for words. Groping for a scrap of optimism, I encouraged her to console herself with the yogurt. We parted on intimate terms.

As I made my way toward the front of the store a woman perusing the condiments turned and with her second glance gave me a most lovely smile. I'd have thought nothing of it except I'm feeling olde these days. She was near my age and I thought I caught hint of a muffled giggle (my ears get clogged when I'm in a city) as she coquettishly (do I read too much into these?) covered her smile with a ringless hand.

Adopting a slight swagger, I picked the checkout line by noting she was about my age. She was busy with a customer and directed me to the next aisle. As I approached I realized I was about to find myself in the presence of an exceptional beauty. At least ten years my junior with dark hair, she greeted me with a Mona Lisa smile that prompted me to inquire about what kinds of trouble she'd been causing.

With a touch of hurt, she averred her innocence and was merely responding to me. Concerned for her feelings, I described the cartoon that has two pictures of a seated cat. The cat, in both pictures has the identical, enigmatic expression. The caption under the left image is, "A cat thinking about doing something." The caption under the second image is, "A cat that's just done something." 

She got the joke and we spent the rest of the afternoon swapping tales of ribald encounters in the Ace Hardware.

As usual, it reads alot less dramatical than real life. But as I climbed into the cockpit, I was surprised to find myself pondering the potentialities of a rented room.

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