We pulled up to the country store to buy a soda pop. We were hankerin’ for an Orange Crush, before our final stop.
With my father riding shotgun, I was stuck behind the wheel. We’d been driving since near daylight. Now a drink would be ideal.
I’d have to say the country store had been around awhile. The floors were still original, weren’t placed down for their style.
The dusty pictures on the wall showed years of gone by days. I felt a sense of comfort coming from their country ways.
I passed two older ladies. They were sipping on ice tea. I guessed ‘em to be regulars, or so it seemed to me.
The older gal spoke up and said, “I see you’re not from here. So, welcome to our country store.” She sounded so sincere.
I told her, “We’re just passing through. We’ve driven since near dawn.” I said, “A drink would taste so good. Sure glad your sign was on.”
I stepped up to the counter, pulled my wallet out to pay. But then the other gal piped up, “Your drink’s on us today.”
So, I thanked ‘em both most kindly, then I walked out to the truck. We drove on down the road. The country store was my good luck.
I took a look up in the mirror. We hadn’t driven far. When I saw the blue lights flashing, had to be the Sheriff’s car.
The officer walked up and said, “I guess you’d be the one. You left your wallet at the store. Those gals came plumb undone!”
I shook his hand and thanked him, then we got back on the road. That day we met some decent folks. Must be a country code.
My father said, “We sometimes hear those country people jokes. But the world would be much better if we all were country folks.