Anna, at the feed store, made me laugh out loud last week.
“You’ll enjoy this, Pam,” she shared, while ringing up my order of six bales of fescue and a Kit Kat bar. “My nephew, Grayson, who plays college baseball, and who can inhale a rack of ribs before any of us lifts a fork, came home from school for our annual family get-together and announced to us all that he’s now a vegan.”
Cocking her head and savoring the best part, she added, “So, naturally, I asked, ‘Who is she?’”
After confirming that Grayson had indeed a new girlfriend and was currently researching to see if Oreos were permissible within the parameters of his new dietary lifestyle, we both chuckled out of sympathy.
Oh, the things we do for love. Especially young love when each new flame may very well be ‘the one.’
Mindful that my own horsey passion, dressage, can be to most folks as boring as watching the grass grow, I tried to be a good sport with a boyfriend, eons ago, who was a red-hot science-fiction fanatic. Not only did I drive down to San Diego with him to attend a Star Trek convention (have you ever noticed how much Mr Spock’s eye makeup looks just like the heavily lined and frosted tints one would see on a 1960s cocktail waitress?) but I also sat through the torturously boring and self-proclaimed, epic, “Dune.” Even knowing that my 1980s pop idol, Sting, had a cameo (one line, shrieking, “I will kill him!”) and would appear sometime during the three hour bum-number, did nothing to assuage my despair.