It was a hot and humid South Texas day. The older Texas State trooper was seated at the desk going through young Trooper Bob’s paperwork. “Now see Bob, this should have been a form 3343 not a 3357. They don’t like it none when they git the wrong report up there in Austin” Homer declared while he shuffled through the paperwork. “I reckon it’ll be awhight though. You backed it up with a 1740 and that should do it for em” he continued as the door to the office opened and a blast of wet hot air filled the room. Bob put his chair legs back on the ground from where he had been balancing on just the back two and looked at the figure standing in the doorway. Homer spit some tobacco juice in the cup on his desk and looked back at the paperwork.
The large rotund visitor in a seersucker suit mopped his brow with his handkerchief and stomped toward the desk. Trooper Bob stood up hand on gun ready to back up his mentor. The man looked around the small office located in the basement of the county courthouse and said in his Boston accent “Is this the depahtment of pahblic sahftee?” Homer chewed his plug of Redman and replied “yup.” The visitor reached in his suit coat and removed a large folded paper. Trooper Bob wondered if they were being served court papers and his mind started imagining him and Homer gallivanting around Boston Harbor maybe even eating something exotic like clams or lobster. He craned his neck around the large man to see that it was just a road map. “Ah need you to tahl me the most direct raht to Cheecahgo” the visitor said as he threw the map down on top of Homer’s papers. The he put on finger on Texas and the other on Chicago.
Homer looked up at the man and decided right off he didn’t like him. He didn’t like that he let in the hot air. He didn’t like the fact the man smelled of Gardenas and spice. He didn’t like the fact that he had rudely put his big badly folded map on his desk and most of all he didn’t like his attitude. So Homer looked up at Mr. Seersucker Suit and then he took a red pencil and a ruler from his desk drawer. He studied the map for a minute then he took the ruler and drew a straight line from Sequin, Texas to Chicago, Illinois. He did not follow roads. He did not follow highways but just drew the most direct route from Texas to Chicago just like Mr. Seersucker asked him to. Then he put his red pencil and his ruler back in his desk drawer and said “there you go. That’s the most die-rect rowt.”
Mr. Seersucker stood there, mouth open, breathing heavy. His neck began to turn red then his whole face. Trooper Bob wondered if steam would start escaping from his ears and the top of his head would lift right off just like in the old Elmer Fudd cartoons. Then Mr. Seersucker leaned over the desk and spat at Homer “why you didn’t even follah any rhods. All you did was drawr a line! That’s just unsahtisfahctry!” Homer spat into his cup again, stood up to his full height and said “Mister, you didn’t ask about no roads, you jest wanted the most direct route and that is what I gave you. Now get the hell outta my office.” Mr. Seersucker stood there a moment mouth breathing. Then he snapped his mouth closed, turned on his heel and stormed out. Trooper Bob saw his opportunity and he grabbed the red lined mapped and chased after Mr. Seersucker crying “hey wait you forgot your map. Don’t want you getting lost!” Mr. Seersucker stopped and turned around and said “go to hell!” Trooper Bob didn’t miss a beat he threw the map on the front of Mr. Seersucker’s 1957 Buick and said “naw sir, this here is the way to Chicago. I can draw you a better map to get you to hell only I think they call it Boston on the map.”
I think this might be the reason men don’t ask for directions but women always give them.