By Clay Reid
Cowboys ain’t ever been accused of being very smart, but sometimes when you add alcohol into the mix, it’s amazing the realm of their stupidity. Now I ain’t chunking rocks at anybody because I am that guy I speak of, just like many of my friends. That’s why today I thought I might share one of these stories of stupidity.
This particular episode takes me back to the Trigg Ranch just west of Logan, N. M. My buddy named Shawn Scrogum and I were the last of seven guys who were hired on to clean the ranch of wild cattle. The ranch was hard on folks, and me and old Shauncy were the only ones tough enough to stick it out. “Tough” is a better word for dumb or broke.
Anyway, we were 26 miles from the nearest road and too much of the Trigg will cause a man to need a drink occasionally as well as a little fellowship at a local tavern. Normally we would frequent the “Road to Ruin” bar in Logan, but after hijacking one of the ranch pickups we decided we might try out another bar in Tucumcari called the “Pow Wow.”
Now on our way to the Pow Wow we had a box of beer to drink, Box is cowboy lingo for 12 pack. We figured we had to drink it all before we got there because we only had enough money to buy one beer a piece once we got in, and it’s a little uncomfortable to be in a bar without being in the right frame of mind.
Well, once we got there I think that frame of mind I am speaking of got a little crooked and our eyes might have been a little bit crooked by the time we pulled into the parking lot. Or at least that’s what I am gonna blame my staggering gait on anyway. Here is where the story gets interesting. You see, when I got out I was wearing an old Mexican poncho because it was about 20 degrees Fahrenheit out, but I didn’t wanna go in looking like Pancho Villa and have people start shooting at me. Well, I pulled it over my head and tossed it into the seat of the truck, then locked the door and shut it just about the same time Shawn was shutting his door.