Being around horses has distinct advantages. We can say things that, in any other time or place, might be deemed inappropriate. Things like...
"You look good on him." (I've had that said to me).
Or "He's too much for her, maybe you should get on him."
It's perfectly normal conversation at the barn; no one gets offended or put out. That's just the way it is; that's how we talk.
And such was the case at team sorting two weeks ago. I'll set the stage.
The barn owner/event hosts have many friends, one of whom is an avid team roper and frequent visitor to the barn. I'll just call him R and he's a hoot and a half, just a fun loving guy. Extrovert major. And that's when he's sober. Alcohol tends to magnify his personality, but not in a bad way. He becomes more...people friendly...if you know what I mean.
So, I'm sitting on Duke nursing a cold brew when I see R strolling on foot into the arena. Make that swagger into the arena. His entrance is one that won't go unnoticed because he has a certain lively energy to him at the moment...the kind everyone hears...and he has a beer in his hand.
To my right are my friends Erica, Hillary, and Kim. To my left is another friend named Judy; a shall we say mature woman. I had just taken a swig of my beer, as I'm watching R's face light up and he strolls right up to Judy, like he's on a mission.
Then he belts out, rather loudly, "Hey, how old is your ass?"
Judy is sitting on a mule. And responds to his question as if he was asking about her son. "He's 30," she says, nonplussed. And the two strike up a conversation about mules, comparing notes, etc. The way people meeting for the first time might chat.
Me? I'm really glad I already swallowed the beer, because it would have come out my nose if I hadn't.
If a guy said that to a woman (especially a stranger) anywhere else, he would have been slapped...possibly. Most likely more than once.
Okay...someone would be stinging, that's for sure.
There's no people like horse people.
