In case you have not noticed - I have horses. I have been around horses since I was 5. Actually before then, because when I was 2 and a half my mother would get calls from the neighbors saying that I was in the middle of their horse field surrounded by horses. They would always politely ask my mother to come and get me. That was when my mother put bells on my shoes so she could hear where I was.
I have been around the horses and horsepeople for some time. I have worked for good people and bad people. Boarded at good places and at rat holes. I am perfectly happy where I am now. I love the barn I am in, the folks I ride with (ok so when I ride), and the care my animals get is absolutely incredible.
So when one of the gals who takes care of my horses said she did not want to see the guy she was dating anymore and had chickened out several times telling the guy to pound sand, I offered my assistance. (See blog entries The witch is dead
and what the witch did
She gladly accepted the offer.
I have to tell you a bit about Bob - he is not battery operated, rocks may have more intelligence, and molasses may run faster, and the guy moves hay for a living. But he can lift heavy things so, he at least has that going for him.
There are a few characters in the story, Liza, Eleanor, Eleanor's boyfriend Ray, my husband Jeff, and Bob.
There was a party at the barn the night of Herman's show and that was where Bob was to be kicked to the curb. Jeff and I arrived late because I had to get a nap when I got home from the show. (no sleep makes me quite bitchy) Apparently there was great anticipation for the nights event. I am not sure but I believe that they were selling tickets on eBay for the event.
Going in the only thing I knew about Bob was that M wanted to part ways and that Bob had a weak hand shake (Thanks for the tip Liza!)
So I meet Bob and got the weakest hand shake in the world and questioned his manliness. We shook hands with the other hand and I fully expected my hand to get squashed like bug. Nope - and he tried to squash it but it was weaker then the first. His homework was to work on a better handshake before he could return to the Porch Bar.
Later on in the evening I asked Bob what his intentions were for our M. You would have thought I was holding a shotgun to his head telling him he was going to marry M. The bottom line with that discussion was that he would be around until M told him to "go f*&% himself." I thought it was a little to easy to tell him that she wanted to part ways right then. Besides he was going on a roll about how New Jersey sucked.
He was sitting next to Ray. Ray lives in New Jersey. Ray and Bob had never met. We informed Bob that he was insulting the person sitting next to him. Somehow it did not register that he was being a dumb ass. He proceeded to launch into a story about how last week his friends had deemed him the "safest drunk driver". HMMM safe drunk driver. Yeah - it did not work for me either. So when life opens a door you walk through...
We all pounced on him like a tiger on a kill. "There is no such thing as a 'safe' drunk driver." "what happens when you kill a mother and her three kids." What happens when you kill one of your friends." "It is official - I am warning M off from you. How dare you jeopardize other peoples lives? Or potentially jeopardize our friends life." And on and on it went for about 20 minutes. Then the guys tries to tell us that this was years ago, and I being me informed him that he said it was last week. He stomps off.
Jeff was telling the story about Authur Ave in New York where you eat dinner at one place, you eat dessert at another place, and if you wanted coffee you went to the next store. Somehow we go onto the subject of Hoffa. How the FBI ripped up that barn and found nothing. Bob chimes in after returning in the middle of the story, that Jimmy Hoffa was a descent and honest man who was looking out for the little guy.
Chaos ensued and Bob was informed that Hoffa used the little guy to line his pockets. That he was not a descent man and I think he was even likened to Enron executives stealing retirement funds from their employees. Or something of that nature. Needless to say Bob, who was still kind of upset about getting lambasted about drunk driving, was now full on angry and stomped off again.
When he returned, Liza and Eleanor were discussing snowbirding in Florida for the winter and riding down there. A comment about enough dirt for black mail was made and I could not resist. "Remember Jose. You remember Jose from the Salsa bar in Miami." (basically insinuating that a drunken stooper along with salsa dancing had been attained in said Salsa bar.) Bob pipes in, "What's a salsa bar?" Jeff, right on time, "You know it is a bar where they server chips and salsa." Well, the Porch bar busted out in laughter. Deciding that Jeff was friend and not foe bob asked Jeff what kind of music he listened to. Without skipping a beat, " I listen to both kinds country and western." Again the Porch Bar busts into laughter and Bob was clueless. (It is from the Blues Brothers.) Bob then asks Jeff if he likes Garth Brooks. "Na I like Tim McGraw." Why is that funny you may ask... Because Jeff is a Metallica, GnR, speed metal, Billy Joel loving kind of guy.
Bob left the party one girlfreind light, somewhat more enlightened then when he came, drunk, and apparently never to be heard from again. I now have a new nickname - Unhitch... go figure
So the question remains - where's Bob?