by B R Snow
“Lucky for us, the President vetoed that stupid law, huh?” Tom said.
“Congress is getting ready to override his veto,” Milo said, taking a sip of beer.
“But they won’t be able to pass it, right?”
“Oh, I’m certain the veto is going to be overridden.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’ve been told that by some people I know in Washington,” Milo said.
“You have friends in Washington?”
“Oh, my, no,” Milo said, laughing. “I would never call the people I know in Washington friends. They’re just lawyers who managed to convince enough voters they’re worthy of making decisions on their behalf.”
“I take it you’re not much of a fan of politicians,” Tom said.
“I dislike politicians,” Milo said. “But I detest lawyers. Combine the two, and you get a very nasty product.”
“Like bad moonshine,” Tom said.
“Yes. If it doesn’t kill you, the odds are it will leave you blind,” Milo said, gesturing for a third shot.
“You want another?”
“One more.”
“Be careful. This stuff sneaks up on you in a hurry.”
“Let’s call the third one additional field study. Sort of a personal research project.”
“It’s your funeral,” Tom said, pouring the shot. “By the way, what are you doing in town?”
“Actually, I have just relocated to your wonderful town. This is my first day here.”
“Really? What do you do for work?”
“I’m currently in transition, and I’m looking for a change. Something in my head is telling me that it’s time to do something different.”
“Like what?”
“I thought I might give dairy farming a shot,” Milo said, tossing back his third shot. “Whew. I see what you mean about it sneaking up on you.”
“Uh, no offense, Milo,” Tom said. “You could have given me a hundred guesses, and I wouldn’t have come up with dairy farmer. You know much about cows?”
“Other than they have four legs and produce milk, not a single thing.”
“Okay. I guess you gotta start somewhere, right? Look, Milo, dairy farming is no picnic. And there aren’t any days off. You do know that cows have to be milked twice a day every day, don’t you?”
“I did not know that,” Milo said, shaking his head. “I’m glad I stopped by, Tom Collins. Not only have you provided me with some of the best alcohol I have ever tasted, but you’ve also taught me something.”
“Why on earth would you want to be a dairy farmer?”
“Well, there’s just something calling me to it. When booze is outlawed, I have a gut feeling that my milk is going to be in very high demand. And I always try to go with my gut instincts.”
Milo shook his head to clear it and glanced back at Beulah Peppin who was still chatting with several people milling around her.
“She is a very striking woman,” Milo said.
“She is. Too bad she never seems to put her looks on better display. It’s like she does everything she can to hide them,” Tom said. “But I do like her hat.”
“Yes, I agree. And she wears it very well.”
