Clapping...There Was Clapping

To kick off spring break, my jewelry and I woke up on Thursday morning and made it through airport security on the first try.  This is always picture worthy.  When I arrived at my parents' house in Arizona, I promptly stuck my nose in the air to give the sun its proper hello, breathed in deeply, and immediately found my spot in the grass to do some soaking of that warm goodness. 

Let me back up a minute though and say that shortly after I took that snap in the airport bathroom in my town, I was involved in a mild tussle with a young chap from Arizona, a middle aged chap from Lousiana, and an older chap from I'm not sure where, but some other state.  I will refer to the young chap as Punk, the middle aged chap as South, and the older chap as Gucci.  I'm going to let their names do most of the explaining.  First, I was sitting with Gucci and South.  Both friendly men.  We chatted.  They watched my belongings while I took pictures in the bathroom.  We laughed.  Gucci commented I might not need anymore coffee.  South told me, "It's not that hard."  After looking at the book I was reading, How to Love an American Man.  I informed him my track record was lacking.  The three of us...we bonded.

Then, Punk comes and sits down and turns to me and in a real punk-ish way says, "I bet you can't wait to get the bleep out of this bleep hole as much as me!"  I won't go into more details about his prairie slamming, but that was just the start of his over the top rant about how horrible North Dakota is and about how the people are all a bunch of "honky ranchers." 

My face got red.  I felt it creeping up.  I sat forward in my chair.  I just couldn't hold it in.  Nobody talks about my dirt like that.  So I let it fly.  Telling him, "Actually, I'm FROM here and I don't appreciate you disrespecting the place I grew up and the people I love.  It's your choice to come here.  Nobody made you come here.  You are making money off our state.  And you really better think twice before you start on a roll because turns out, we'd be just fine if you went away.  You also better not make judgements about the people of North Dakota based on the people you work with, because I have news for you.  The majority of them are just like you.  Not from here."  There was some finger wagging too.  Have I ever mentioned I can get fired up?     

South was sitting right between us and he piped in with, "Your face is red.  Your face is red.  Your face is really red."  Then he turned to Punk and threw his hands up, "Dude.  We were having a nice conversation.  Why'd you have to go and get her all worked up?" 

Gucci sat back, crossed his legs, and smiled. 

Punk felt dumb.  I could tell because his face turned red and he started to back track.  Fast.  Tried to tell me he was just frustrated because he was used to having a lot of things to do and places to go, etc...  Adding in a, "What do you like to do around here anyway?  You seem like you'd know the fun stuff." 

To which I replied, "Oh you know.  I like to go home and play with my sheep and chop wood for the fire." 

Punk felt even more dumb.  South kept reminding me my face was red.  Gucci kept that smile on his face. 

Then Punk pulled out his last straw to try and redeem himself.  He said, "You are really pretty.  Your eyes are gorgeous.  You should give me your number so when I get back, you could show me how great this place is." 

To which I replied in the sweetest of sweet voices with an eyelash bat thrown in, "I totally would give you my number.  BUT the problem is...I don't have a phone nor do I even know how to work a phone.  Seeings as how I'm just a honky rancher from North Dakota." 

People around started clapping.  They clapped.   

Gucci finally broke his cool collected smile and said to me, "I'm fairly certain you have a lot going for you.  I'm also fairly certain YOU WIN." 

To which I replied, as I sat back in my chair and calmly crossed my legs, "Yes.  Yes I do."

My face returned to its normal color.  Visiting returned to friendly exchanges of this and that.  All was calm in the airport once again.  Flights started being called.      

South stood up to board his Hess charter flight to Houston and began to walk away.  Then he stopped.  Turned around and asked me for my number.  And just to spite Punk, who was still sitting there, I gave it to him.