Listen up, compadres, here's the drill.
I do not win at gambling games.
But I think I won one a little after sunrise on Easter Morning at one of
the
business establishments in Monahans.
Here is how it happened.
I am in this well-known business establishment standing in the checkout
lane. I have completed my mission. Clutched in my hand was a can of
cranberries (whole) which had been the focus of my quest this early
Easter morning.
"Do you have your card," asks the smiling, cheerful young woman at the
checkout lane. "I know you have your card."
Often I have wondered how it is possible to be so bright and cheery and
downright joyful at that hour of the morning, especially if you have to
work and every one else does not have to work. Some of the everyone
else's also sometimes tend to treat people who work on Easters,
Christmases and Roger Staubach's birthday as slaves. I wonder about such
people because I often have worked on Easters, Christmases and Roger
Staubach's birthday and only now am beginning to adjust to such
calamity. But I digress.
"I know you have your card," says the bright, cheery young lady.
So I drag the piece of plastic from my wallet and she waves my card like
a wand of Merlin over the scanner.
Eureka!
Eureka!
"You get a ham," she cheerily announces.
I am struck dumb with this magic. I do not know what to do. My limbs are
solid. At this instant, even Bill Clinton could walk by and I would not
scream - "Thief! Thief! Impeach the thief!" It is likely Police Chief
Dave Watts could not have made me smile when he intones that the answer
to the little misunderstanding with China is: "Newt 'em! Newt 'em! Newt
'em." But I digress.
"You get a ham," she cheerily announces.
Recovering from this volcanic tremor, I mumble something unintelligible
except to checkout persons used to dealing with the lowest forms of homo
sap.
"We'll get it for you," the checker beams and the ice cream over on
Aisle 4 (I think it's aisle 4. Maybe it's aisle 5. No I think it's aisle
4.) begins to melt with the warmth of her smile.
Whop! The ham hits the sack.
Picking up the ham-filled sack, I stroll off into the Easter Sunrise
roaring at the top of my lungs the only two lines I can remember from my
favorite song which is Pancho and Lefty and I do those lines pretty
good; not as good as Willie mind you, but for two lines, I'm close. But
I digress.
The ham hits the sack. I have won something in a gambling game for the
first time in my life.
Telling this tale on Easter Monday, I also find that Steve Patterson got
a ham; Jerry Caldwell got a ham; Linda Stephens got a ham. For all I
know Bill Clinton got a ham and that would upset me terribly.
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