This past weekend the Hunters’ Extravaganza was in town. Back in the days when P. and I were young and newly in love, I would go with him every year to survey the veritable wealth of all things hunting related.
We would stroll up and down the aisles holding hands and y’all I was so in love that I didn’t even care that all the booths basically sold some version of deer urine, ugly camo clothing, or deer feeders made out of industrial size trash cans. The highlight of the trip for me was just being with P. and eating those sugared pecans that they sell in little plastic sacks shaped like a carrot.
Pretty much after we got married, I quit making the annual trek to the Extravaganza. It really falls under the category of things that once you’ve seen them, you don’t need to see them again. Plus, once we got married we could sit at home and hold hands which in my opinion was preferable to being amongst the doe urine.
Anyway, I give you all this useless information to share one of my favorite stories regarding the Hunters’ Extravaganza (and I know at this point you can’t believe that there’s more). Every year they have a penned in area where they have a rattlesnake roundup. Seriously, if you want to come to Texas I can get you tickets for next year.
The rattlesnake roundup consists of a bunch of rattlesnakes and one clearly insane man that does tricks with the rattlesnakes such as putting them under his hat or picking them up or spinning them around really fast and snapping their head off (I’m sorry, that one’s not true I just made it up because the image in my sick mind made me laugh). So, everyone stands around and watches this guy who is obviously some sort of crazy.
One year at the Extravaganza, a family friend of ours was watching the rattlesnakes and the whole thing was making him feel a little icky. You know how you start to feel a little creeped out, like maybe there’s one near you or something? So he’s a little freaked out by the whole thing and about that time he takes a step backwards and steps on something cylindrical that kind of rolls under his foot. He jumps up, spills his beer, screams like a little girl and looks down to see a completely squashed giant dill pickle. Don’t worry y’all, it was dead.