Cowboy in a Truck
"I had to take my paperwork into the weigh-station..."
"Why's that?"
"Don't know, I'm guessing the gal saw some guy with a cowboy hat and was curious..."
I'm a curious kind of person too. I come from a long line of curious people, and most of us have lived to tell about it.
I have a story about a Texas cowboy. Well, he wouldn't fit most ideas of a Texas cowboy, but he's unique.
His name was Tom. He and his wife started a business, like a Greyhound bus that booked tours. Some tours went to Mexico, some went to Canada, and some went to all sorts of places in between.
On one trip to Canada, he went into customs for whatever they go in for. The woman at the desk asked where he was from.
"Texas, ma'am."
"Don't call me ma'am," she glares at him. "And do you have any guns, knives, weapons, or large sums of money?"
"No, ma'am," he said in true Texan fashion.
"I told you not to call me ma'am, and what do you mean no guns or weapons? You're from Texas aren't you?"
"Well, yes, ma'..." He barely caught himself in time. "I don't have any guns or weapons."
"We'll just see about that—"
He said they had to unload everything. All of the luggage, all of the people, all because she was so certain they had guns. And she sure didn't want to be called, 'ma'am'.
Texas is still the wild west to some people apparently.
On mission trips you learn many different stories about many different people from the most unlikely places.
