Parking lot encounter…
“Well, I’m going to have to ask you to remove your…hat.”
Good thing I had my shades on. The look of ‘what the freak’ written all over my face.
He wore some new fancy camo britches (I need a pair), had some tats, looked like a friendly, but one never knows around here. We’d come out of Whole Foods, I’m seldom in WF, I just didn’t know what to expect.
It’s my camo hat.
I'm not in the mood for bovine scat today.
Still not knowing if I’m going to be attacked for no mask, my reply was simple, “yeah, and I need to remove my shoes too.”
He looks down, doesn’t say a word, walks to his truck, tells me he’s a t-sip (his words).
I throw my head back and laugh out loud, shoot him the hook ‘em sign.
Deep exhale.
What a relief.
(My camo hat is an A&M camo hat.)
T-sips and Aggies getting along.
He mentions something about football, not so hot lately, UT.
I mention we - Aggie fans - are long suffering.
He didn’t ask me to remove my shoes.
Thank you, sir, for making my day.
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