Partial to Pickles

I was walking Scamp Saturday morning, when I run into Hank and Pearl Plaistead. They were just getting back from breakfast down to the Busy Bee.

“We go early to get a good seat,” Pearl says. “Hank just loves to watch folks from away plunk down $4.50 for a cup of coffee.”

“Ah,” I reply, “Babe’s special Maine Mocha Latte Grandé!”

“Better known as Maxwell House poured over a Hershey’s Kiss, topped with Cool Whip.”

“Gotta love it!”

Hank pipes up, “Hey, if folks want to pay through the nose for some fancy-dancy coffee, Babe’s only willing to oblige.”

“Gee,” I says, “we sure have had a lot of tourists this summer, huh? Gotta leave ten minutes early to get to work, what with all the traffic.”

“Yup,” Hank replies. “Get this: I was working here in the yard a few weeks back, and this fella from Massachusetts pulls up sharp in front of the house. Doesn’t say ‘hi,’ or nothing. Just jumps right in. ‘Who owns that land back there?’ he asks. ‘Do you own that land back there?’ I says, ‘No, I don’t own that land back there.’ ‘Well, who owns that land back there?’ And I says, “God owns that land back there. I’m just maintaining it for Him.’”

“Aren’t you a smart-aleck, Hank?”

“Ida,” Pearl chimes in, “you don’t know the half of it.”

I go, “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever asked how you two met.”

“Over a plate of pickles at my aunts house,” Pearl replies. “It was Thanksgiving, and I’m bringing a plate of pickles into the dining room. I come ‘round the corner and there’s Hank, standing in the doorway to the living room. He smiles at me, and that was it.”

“Wow!” I says, “love at first sight!”

“Well, she was a nice looking gal, and I’m partial to pickles.”

Pearl continues, “Later that week, my aunt calls up and invites me to dinner Saturday night. Guess who else is there.”

“Aren’t you the fast worker, Hank?”

Hank winks, “Yah, I was pretty wild back then. Pearl fell in love with me right quick, and you know what? She’s been falling out of love with me ever since!”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I’m telling you, Ida. Pearl’s been cleaning up a storm lately, getting rid of old stuff. I’m afraid I’m next.”

“Hank, you are so full of it,” Pearl replies. “I better go get my hip waders. The manure’s piling up fast!”

“You two love birds got anything special planned this weekend?”

“Hank and me are going to our daughter Sally’s place over to Veazie. She’s throwing us a little anniversary dinner.”

“Thirty-five years happy years together,” Hank chimes in.

“Wait a minute,” I says. “I thought you celebrated your fiftieth a while back.”

“We did.”

“Don’t listen to him, Ida. It’s more like twenty-five good years, anyway!”

That’s it for now. Catch you on the flip side!

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