Thursday, Hick returned from town while I was in the shower. I heard him enter the house, but then leave again by way of the slamming front door. He's not an angry slammer. Just an inconsiderate one.
Anyhoo... by the time I was starting up the driveway for town, here came Hick on the Gator. He drove at T-Hoe, so I figured he wanted to talk to me.
"I'm on my way to town."
"I'm on my way to the pool. It's hot."
"Why did you come in the house?"
"To put that pizza in the fridge."
"That I get in town, at that new place. I couldn't eat it all. I usually can, but I ate the salad, and got full during the pizza. It's in there if you want it. There's about a third of a small pizza."
"I was planning on getting Dairy Queen chicken and pretzel sticks. But I could eat the pizza. Wait! Is it pepperoni? I hate pepperoni."
"No. It's Canadian bacon and mushroom."
"Maybe The Pony will want it. NO. He doesn't like mushrooms. We'll see. Maybe I'll have it for supper, instead of what you guys are having."
Off I went. Not wanting to waste any pizza. The more I thought about it, I figured I would give The Pony the two-piece chicken strip with honey mustard, and have the pizza with my pretzel sticks.
Let the record show that almost daily, I get something off Dairy Queen's 2-for-$4 menu for The Pony and myself. Sometimes we both have chicken and pretzels. Sometimes we just have pretzels. Sometimes we split it up. On this day, The Pony had declared that he didn't want anything brought back for him.
Still, I figured he would be disappointed if I didn't bring him something. You have to get an even number of items to get the 2-for-$4 deal. Yeah. That sounded just right. I'd give The Pony my chicken, and have the pizza and pretzels. He'd said he was just having snacks until supper, but the chicken would give him some protein, anyway.
As usual, The Pony trotted out to the garage to carry in my purse and the Dairy Queen bag (only I carry my magical elixir). How cruel it would have been for him to see that I actually DID bring him NOTHING!
"Hey. I'm giving you my chicken. I'll just eat that pizza Dad had left over from his lunch."
"Oh. I ate the pizza."
"Wait. You don't like mushrooms."
"I picked them off."
"I just thought I'd eat the pizza, and give you my chicken."
"I thought you might do that, to be nice, and I didn't want to take your chicken. So I picked the mushrooms off the pizza, and had that instead."
Yes. The Pony gave up his watch-fob chicken, and instead ate my hair-comb pizza. You might call such a story: The Gift of the Hick-Guy.