Louisa Town Relations

I put in a req for Brittany to take me into town today for some dairy/fences errands.

So, first, we stopped at the Food Lion for treats: “Donuts?  Donuts.”

But then on the way out, we passed by this couple, one of whom said “Oh look, young Twin Oakers!”  Not in a sort of “Hello!  I lived there!” sort of way, but in a “Hey, your hair is sticking up!” sort of way.

So I interrogated Brittany about our appearance, and we determined that we look a little funny.  Maybe not outlandish.  But off:

I’m wearing a matching red hat and scarf with a naval (?) jacket that I got out of commie last year, some torn up jeans, and poop-stained dairy boots.  Brittany says she looks “bag-lady chic.”

Later, at the hardware store, I was getting things rung up, and I said, “I think we have an account with y’all.  I’m from Twin Oaks.” And the cashier didn’t respond for a while.  Then he looked up, and said:

“What are you working on there?”

“Oh, I mean, nothing really — this is just a few things for the dairy barn.”

“Dairy?”

“Yeah.  I manage the dairy program there.”

“Huh. ”
“How did you land that job?”

“Uh.”
“The last manager stopped, and nobody else wanted to do it.  That’s kind of how things work there. Did you know the last manager?”

“No.”

His look was puzzling.

Theories:

1) He was checking to see if I was legitimately from Twin Oaks or if I was trying to bill somebody else for my drain stoppers and surge protector.

2) I looked like a city boy?  “You do look very stylish from the waist up,” says Brittany.