T-rex called me to laugh about his latest call. Hippies, no like real hippies, not this generation hippy, but like the 60 kind . . . just as old too. Something about rebelling in you 70’s just isn’t as cool. There were some things my parents were right about. Hippies weren’t doing anything illegal, or too bad, just being strange.
He came home late, not that I noticed, or cared until he woke me up. Drunks were walking around the county, out of city limits so he had to deal with it. He should have just left em to get ran over, but being the good guy he is, he took care of it. And this is typical. Late because of something so dumb, busy because people in a small town can’t stand strange people. I think he has gotten a call saying something like “this guy is from the city and looks funny.” He has to go check it out, because as crazy as society is you never know.
I wish he could deal with society how I deal with the kids when they start to cry. Two questions are asked before I move.
“Hey whoever is crying! Are you bleeding?”
“Are you on fire?”
If the answers are no then I don’t move.
I guess I should ask “Is a bone broken?” But eh
T-rex could ask questions like
“are you drunk?”
“Is your IQ above that of a tree?”
“is there a gun in your face. . like right now?”
And if the answers are no then T-rex does not have to go out. Sometimes I think it might do a person good to not have a cop right there to help them out of their mess. But then again it is great to know that no matter what T-rex will be there to help. . . .