This encounter happened during the summer of 2014.
Today was a Red Letter Day for a gal who sells macraméd hemp products by the side of the road. In one day, I experienced a trifecta of the things people have said to me repeatedly over the course of three summers. (This is the first time they’ve been said to me all in one day.)
#1 Someone offered to sell me weed and seemed surprised when I said I don’t smoke it.
#2 An old man joked about smoking hemp to get high.
#3 A woman told me she used to do macrame and (bonus!) said she’d even made a macrame owl wall hanging.
To make the day even weirder, an older (at least 60 years old) man (who looked like a white guy to me) told me (as he was trying on one of my necklaces) that he used to be an Osage Indian. I was under the impression, once an Osage Indian, always an Osage Indian, so I asked him what he is now. He said his wife made him move to Dallas.
Then he said (slyly), My wife’s a cougar. Do you know what that is?
I said yes, while in my head I was thinking, if she likes younger men and she’s married to you, she must be 85 years old.
At that point, he told me he likes younger women. I wondered if he was hitting on me, but I kept that in my head too. To sell a $20 necklace, I’ll let some old guy married to a cougar hit on me. So he bought the necklace and seemed less weird. We chatted a few more minutes, then he walked on.
I saw the woman he met up with. She didn’t look 85 (or like a cougar, for that matter). She looked like your average uptight 65 year old Texas lady.
Was he fucking with me?
To learn more about hemp go here: http://www.rubbertrampartist.com/2015/11/19/hemp-2/.
To read more about customers, go here: http://www.rubbertrampartist.com/2015/12/09/selling-hemp-again/, here: http://www.rubbertrampartist.com/2015/12/14/mean-daddy/, here: http://www.rubbertrampartist.com/2015/11/12/hard-times-on-the-highway/, here: http://www.rubbertrampartist.com/2015/09/26/turtle-ass/, and here: http://www.rubbertrampartist.com/2015/03/17/how-much-are-these/