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Nobody in Fort Stockton had seen one of these in years.  Then, out of the blue, one shows up in town the same day one shows up on Bring a Trailer.  You can’t chalk that up to just coincidence.  Didn’t take the owner long to make his way to the Grounds for Divorce.  He introduced himself to everyone in the cafe.  

“Howdy.  Glad to meet you.  Lance Derwent.  Was just hired as the cartoonist over at the Stockton Telegram-Dispatch.  New in town.  Heard this was the place to meet all the movers and shakers in town.”

Chad from the Piggly Wiggly was quick to point out that those of us around the table were the ‘movers’; Lucinda, the waitress, was the ‘shaker’.  She was less than impressed.

“Fun fact, Chad,” she said.  “Humans are deuterostomes, which means that when they develop in the womb, the anus forms before any other opening.  That means that at one point you were nothing but an a-hole.”  She glanced over at Chad, “Some people never develop beyond that stage.”

“That’s quite a truck you got there, buddy,” Pastor Peterson said.  “A cab-forward pickup.  Hadn’t seen one in forever.  That one’s mint!”

Lance looked over at me.  “Is everyone in Fort Stockton an unemployed comedian?”

“If any of us could draw, you wouldn’t have been hired,” Sister Thelma told him.  “Where you from, anyway, Lance?”

“Don’t tell me, let me guess,” Rusty said.  “Seems like I’ve seen a Ford like that in the panhandle.  Betcha you’re from Pampa!”

“No sir,” Lance told him.  “Only thing from Pampa is prostitutes and football players.”

Rusty bristled a bit.  “Son, my wife is from Pampa.”

Lance didn’t miss a beat, “Oh really?  What position did she play?”  Sister Thelma invited him to sit down and told him he was going to fit in just fine.  

Turns out he’s actually from Estelline, but figured there was no shot at getting a job as a cartoonist there, so he came to Fort Stockton to follow his dream.  “Most people take the road out of town to follow their dream, not the one leading in,” Lucinda told him while she re-filled all the coffee cups around the table.  “But welcome to town.  You married?”

Chad told her she was more forward than the cab on Lance’s Econoline, which she immediately brushed off.  Single male prospects are few and far between in Fort Stockton; a new one needs to be thoroughly vetted as quickly as possible, especially since she and Delgado are no longer a thing.  “That looks like a new suspension,” she told him.  “Has it been tested yet?”

Lance, already drawing a cartoon of the question in his mind, said, “Yes ma’am, but the shearling seat covers are just made for a struggle-n-snuggle.  Those sheep didn’t die in vain.”  

Thank goodness New Guy walked in and broke the sexual tension, as Sister Thelma was turning a shade of red not usually found in nature.  He got the last piece of buttermilk pie from the case next to the register.

And then Binderman pulled up in front of the GFD in his silver two toned Brown and Cream ’59 Ford, fresh off its transplanted Coyote operation.  “Talk about a bounty of riches,” Pastor Peterson said.  “That ride is as sweet as it is subtle!”

All of a sudden it looked like a Cars-N-Coffee out front of the little cafe, and it wasn’t even a Saturday.  Lance got out his sketch pad and started drawing something that may or may not end up in the paper.  We were all trying to guess the caption.

Lucinda went out to see if those sheepskin seat covers were as soft as they looked.

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