You know what makes me sick? You know what makes me so mad I just wanna shove a pork-chop down my pants and try to sneak past a pack of wild hyenas?
Yeah – a couple nights ago – I did something I now regret. I saved my buddy’s life.
Now – don’t get me wrong. I do not regret the fact that Dub Meeker is still alive. What I do regret is the awkward nature of somebody owing you their life.
See – what happened was – we was down at the Duck Inn – and Dub started choking on a piece of Kielbassa. I mean – his eyes rolled up in his head and he was flopping around like a walrus just got shot. So I jumped in to action – and tried to give him that Hindenburg maneuver. But he’s a big guy – and I couldn’t get my arms around him – so I just gave him a haymaker to the solar plexus.
Let me tell you something – that Kielbassa come flying out of his throat like a rifle shot… ricocheted off my forehead and imbedded in the wall above the juke-box.
To make a long story short – according to redneck tradition – I now own this guy. He owes me his life. And he has to spend the rest of his life – paying me back. And don’t look at me like that. I didn’t write the Redneck Creed. I just live it.
Like – he followed me into work yesterday morning… and when I stopped for coffee, he grabbed my mug and said, ‘It’s on me, Earl.’ He bought my coffee – and FOUR donuts.’ I says, “I got to get some smokes, too.’ He bought me a carton. Yeah – a carton!!
Then at lunch… I pulled out my baloney samich. Dub says, ‘Put that away, son.’ His wife, Charlene made me home-made chili for the microwave.
So last night at the bowling alley. Dub don’t show up. And I was kind of hoping he’d pay for my bowling. Because I did save his life, right? Then his brother Junior tells me – Dub is in the hospital. And I go, ‘What’s going on there?’ And Junior goes – ‘I don’t know what happened… but Dub’s got three cracked ribs.’
And I go… ‘Huh?’ And ladies and gentlemen… right now I am smoking like a chimney – before he wants these cigarettes back.
Wake up, America!!! Look at it this way, Dub. Someday we’ll look back on all this and laugh. But not today – you’ll bruise a lung. And because it’s kind of my fault – you only have to buy me two donuts from now on. I’m Earl Pitts, American. Like me on Facebook. And Pitts Off.