The Shaggy Dog Stories - Chap. 8

Chapter 8
Say, Are You a Real Cowboy?

I was sittin' in a little roadhouse just outside of Silverton last Friday afternoon, tippin' a jar of Trifecta when a young woman on a Harley 1200 pulled up outside. She walked in wearing black leathers and a black bandanna; tender, lean and tall. She was 5' 10", minimum, and athletic, with a kick-your-ass attitude and more swagger than most men might muster.

She sat down at the bar not too far away and ordered a Rum and Coke. While she waited, she gave me a quick look-over, which seemed fair, seeing as how I'd already done the same.

Finally, she looked down at her drink and asked, "Say, are you a real cowboy?"

"Yes ma'am," I answered, "Just spent the mornin' mendin' my fences."

"I know you're wondering." she added, "So I'll tell you. I'm a lesbian. Some call me butch. Have been ever since the idea of sex occurred to me. I've been ridin' all over Colorado this week, lookin' for young women. I usually find 'em in places like this. I buy 'em a couple drinks, maybe some dinner; tell 'em my story. By the time I get 'em onto the back of my bike and get their legs strapped 'round my engine, they're so drunk and horny, they literally jump into bed at the motel. Yeah, I think I spend every minute of every day thinkin' about women; how gorgeous they are, how horny I am, and how I can get into those cute, wet little panties of theirs. I guess I'm just about as butch lesbian as they come."

"That's real interesting ma'am," I answered.

Right about then, two more young women walked in and sat at the corner of the bar on my other side. They ordered a couple red wines, and one of them looked me over and asked, "Say, are you a real cowboy?"

"Well, ma'am," I answered, "Up until a minute ago I sure thought I was. But this young lady over here on my right right just explained some things to me and it turns out, what I really am is a butch lesbian."