We are at the small town Arkansas rest stop eating lunch. A young, able-bodied man in a royal blue t-shirt advertising a vo-ag company walks in through the doors wearing work-stained jeans that are worn in all the right places. The sleeves of his t-shirt are cut off to reveal farm-worked, strong arms with deeply tanned skin. He has a trucker's hat haphazardly resting on his head. In a deep Southern draw he tells an older gentleman that is refilling a drink, "The GPS says we are 7 hours and 81 minutes away from our destination."
Is that the same as 8 hours and 21 minutes away? Shh. Shhh. Shhh. Don't worry with the details Honey. You are better off just standing there looking like a Country song.
No comments:
Post a Comment