When one of my cowboy friends tells me
he’s getting married, my first question is “Does she have a job?” This
particular wedding took place in the pines of Arizona. I thought that I
would never again see such a group of ill prepared misfits as these
groomsmen, then came the 2020 lineup running for President. But whatever
magic took place, it must have worked, they’re still married and she’s
still got a job.
There’s two things a
cowboy’s afraid of: Bein’ stranded afoot and a decent woman. I went to a
cowboy wedding recently where the bridegroom had found him a decent
woman. This was not yer normal “walk down the aisle, kiss the bride”
kind of wedding. This was the merger of two Arizona ranching families
complete with rings made outta barb wire, a fiddle playin’ “Here Comes
the Bride”, and mosquitoes.
The
families had worked for weeks gettin’ everything ready. Three days
before the main event they set a big tent up in the meadow for the
reception and dance. Up came a big storm and blew down the tent. They
said when it blew down it looked like a fat lady settin’ on a roll-away
bed.
The
bridesmaids all looked beautiful in their long dresses. The groomsmen,
however, presented a different picture. Putting a suit coat on some of
those cowboys was like puttin’ croutons on a cow pie. The sisters had
made them all gray suit coats and bandanas. Weddings seem to make
cowboys uncomfortable. These fellers looked like they were still hanging
in the closet – paralyzed!
Part of
their condition could be attributed to the 48-hour bachelor party which
preceded the knot tyin’! The groom was maneuvered around on the wedding
day like a NASA moonwalker. Sleep had not been allowed and, with the
bride’s permission, his blood alcohol level was just below Extremely
Flammable.
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