Conversational Turds

My John Wayne sh*t Kicken Clock was the last remaining item hanging on my wall. I purchased this clock at a diner in a no name town in Utah.  I remember sitting there, picking at my eggs while my friend offered some small talk.  I mostly listened as I stared over his shoulder admiring this clock.  I excused myself to the bathroom and crossed the room, at close range I could take in the details, a black and white picture of John Wayne next to a bad@ss cowboy boot that was literally kicking a large, black turd offset by some straw.  The inscription above John Wayne read: Shit Kicken Clock.  My shoulders moved up and down as I laughed at the brilliance of this and to my disbelief dangling down was a price tag.  Not for a second had I thought of this clock being for sale, who would sell such a prize item?  I flipped over the tag, $50.00. I sat back down to finish my eggs but in the back of my mind I was crunching numbers.   I was working three jobs, cheese bread was a staple meal and milk an indulgence buy.  To make matters worse, the only reason I was in that diner was because my car was getting worked on across the street and it was a powder day.

I removed Mr. Wayne from the wall and met my friend up at the counter to pay the bill.  He stared back at me wide-eyed and alarmed as he knew my financial constraints.  “Are you sure you need to buy that?” he implored. “No but I really want to.” I smiled defiantly back and placed the clock down on the counter in all its glory with John Wayne winking back at me.

When Quasi Life Coach saw the clock  he offered me double to remove it from my wall.  “Who would buy a piece of sh*t on a clock?” He asked, offended.  When Mr. Twang saw the clock he said, “Kiddo name your price, I’ll buy it.”  I’ve could never put a price tag on it, suppose there is too much sh*t to be kicken to get rid of such items.

Needs and Wants,

A Warrior Princess

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