None Of Your Damn Business
In honor of today being Halloween, I am going to tell you a true spooky story. This happened last fall. Flynn, James, Vince, and I had all piled into the Huck mobile to do some resort shows in the Pokonos. It was a great time, we were regaling each other with how much we loved the hot tub that's shaped like a martini glass and the heart shaped beds. Vince was driving and was in a nostalgic mood so he took some back roads in Pennsylvania. He calls them short cuts.
We had been on this one dirt road for at least 10 miles when James saw this old man by the side of the road. He was wearing an army jacket. Some dusty corduroy pants. A pair of red leather cowboy boots. He was carrying this wrinkled, tattered brown paper bag. And he had his thumb out.
So naturally, James wants to pick him up. Flynn immediately said, if you pick up that man, he will be crazy. I said I didn't care as long as he wasn't sitting by me. But Vince thought it would be interesting to do as well and James got his way. So Vince pulled over to the shoulder and picked the old man up.
He sat in the back with James riding the hump seat and me by the other window. Flynn was 'navigating' up front. Flynn asked him where he was going. The old man growled, "stop being so nosy!" So James started chatting him up, mentioning how nice it was and how traveling by yourself must be an adventure.
The old man softened a bit at that. The whole time he had been clutching that brown bag like something might escape from it. Vince asked him, "Hey man, what's in the bag?"
"NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS!" the old man shouted.
Flynn and I exchanged nervous looks. While James said, "Yeah, man----don't hound the guy." I almost laughed. The car was in silence for about a minute or so. Vince turned on the radio.
Somebody broke wind. I think it was the old man. But who knows? James had eaten chili for lunch. You never know. Everyone groaned and we rolled down the windows.
Once cabin pressure was reestablished, we got moving again. I was pretty curious about this dude and his bag. So I asked him again, "Hey, come on----what's with the bag?"
"NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS!"
Even louder this time. And after that we all exchanged glances at each other. This probably wasn't the smartest thing to do. Who was this guy? We didn't know. So with the subtlety of a band improvising with themsleves, we all tacitly agreed to booting the old man back to the curb.
Vince slowed down the Huck Mobile, and Flynn said, "Alright, dude---end of the line." The old man protested but Flynn opened the door from the outside and I pushed James who pushed the dude right out the door. Flynn got it and Vince hit the gas.
Two hours later, we were safe home at Huck Junction. When James was rooting around for smokes, he noticed that the old man's brown bag was in the back seat. We all exchanged big shit eating grins and opened the bag....
This is where you're supposed to ask. Well, what's in the bag?
NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS!
We had been on this one dirt road for at least 10 miles when James saw this old man by the side of the road. He was wearing an army jacket. Some dusty corduroy pants. A pair of red leather cowboy boots. He was carrying this wrinkled, tattered brown paper bag. And he had his thumb out.
So naturally, James wants to pick him up. Flynn immediately said, if you pick up that man, he will be crazy. I said I didn't care as long as he wasn't sitting by me. But Vince thought it would be interesting to do as well and James got his way. So Vince pulled over to the shoulder and picked the old man up.
He sat in the back with James riding the hump seat and me by the other window. Flynn was 'navigating' up front. Flynn asked him where he was going. The old man growled, "stop being so nosy!" So James started chatting him up, mentioning how nice it was and how traveling by yourself must be an adventure.
The old man softened a bit at that. The whole time he had been clutching that brown bag like something might escape from it. Vince asked him, "Hey man, what's in the bag?"
"NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS!" the old man shouted.
Flynn and I exchanged nervous looks. While James said, "Yeah, man----don't hound the guy." I almost laughed. The car was in silence for about a minute or so. Vince turned on the radio.
Somebody broke wind. I think it was the old man. But who knows? James had eaten chili for lunch. You never know. Everyone groaned and we rolled down the windows.
Once cabin pressure was reestablished, we got moving again. I was pretty curious about this dude and his bag. So I asked him again, "Hey, come on----what's with the bag?"
"NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS!"
Even louder this time. And after that we all exchanged glances at each other. This probably wasn't the smartest thing to do. Who was this guy? We didn't know. So with the subtlety of a band improvising with themsleves, we all tacitly agreed to booting the old man back to the curb.
Vince slowed down the Huck Mobile, and Flynn said, "Alright, dude---end of the line." The old man protested but Flynn opened the door from the outside and I pushed James who pushed the dude right out the door. Flynn got it and Vince hit the gas.
Two hours later, we were safe home at Huck Junction. When James was rooting around for smokes, he noticed that the old man's brown bag was in the back seat. We all exchanged big shit eating grins and opened the bag....
This is where you're supposed to ask. Well, what's in the bag?
NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS!
1 Comments:
Gentlemen,
I would like my bag and its contents returned as soon as possible.
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