… That boy…

We were driving to Durham separately, I with my GPS and Trent following me, but I needed to get gas so I pulled into a station and climbed out of my car. Trent followed me on in, pulling his his truck up along side of me. I was intent on pumping my gas so I didn’t pay much attention until I heard, loudly behind me:

“Shoooie gir’! You sho is purty! What ch’ya name?”

Every single person in the gas station turned to look and stare at me as I whirled around to find Trent leaning out of the window of his truck, beaming cherubically over at me.

That boy, ladies and gentlemen, is a -nut-.

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One Response to … That boy…

  1. Arthur G. says:

    Marry Christmas and Happy New Year – Great Blog!

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