The Horse Show: Always Bring Beer...Vodka, Gin.

I guess you could say that we are still in the dating women with a horse category.  The woman invites you to go to a horse show.  You're thinking it is probably like going to Wimbledon where an overdressed waiter never lets your drink get to half-staff.  You're also thinking that sex might be involved.  Of course, you thought that too when you went on that romantic oil-changing expedition.  And you thought that...

However...The first job was to reset Brownie's shoes.  The second job was to unload the truck.  This was a two-day show, which meant unloading and loading basically took place in the same twenty-four hour period.  Added together, this amounted to relocating about six-hundred pounds of 'stuff.'  Among the collection was a tack trunk the size of a coffin, tack room curtains made of lead macrame, saddle racks (plural), potted plants, rugs, brooms, brushes, hay, grain, buckets, bridles, tent stakes and a refrigerator.

"This must be for the beer?" I quipped.

"It's for Brownie's medication.  He has arthritis."

"You're going to make this poor arthritic horse jump over fences?  Boy, we both better get some beer."

"It's illegal."

"Beer is illegal!?"

"Not for you, for Brownie.  They test for drugs.  All this medicine is organic.  This is aloe vera, this is biotin, and this stuff is Yucca.  It really helps."

I read the price tag on the Yucca.  $84.50 an ounce.  Heroin was cheaper.'

Later, the question about sex as a possible reward for hours of manual labor was clarified: Jesse slept in the cab of the truck and I slept with two bales of hay and a sweaty horse blanket.  Talk about romantic.  I smelled like the inside of a gym sock.

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