A guy stops by to check out the Intrepid wood stove we're selling and he looked like a local with all his face hair and craptastic little pick-up. But his digs were pretty and probably cost a pretty penny too. I assumed "poser" right away but he was semi-friendly to Mesa upon exiting his vehicle. However, the chic was standoffish. I didn't want Mesa jumping on them smelling like poop... I called her back and took her inside.
So, the first thing he says is "Are you waiting for Armageddon"?
Really? .... Really? .... Huh?
I never thought of our place as a hillbilly outfit even though I tease and call it that occasionally. Turns out the dude is from Vermont and not a local at all. I wonder if there are many folk in Vermont waiting for Armageddon? I wonder if people in Vermont waiting for Armageddon have chickens and goats.
Not sure, he was definately an east coaster figuring out that us westies are kinda laid back. When I told him we just liked to know where our food came from and what we eat eats he shuddered and said he really doesn't want to know what he's eating. Funny cause he really didn't look like an ostrich to me... hehe
ReplyDelete