Sunrise
Sunrise …
It was a warm night back in the summer of 1850, in a Dallas, Texas saloon. The saloon was packed with handsome cowboys and pretty saloon girls.
Two cowboys were sitting at a table in the corner of the saloon, facing each other. Their names were Boots and Spurs. Now, Boots and Spurs had never met one another until this night. Boots was tall and slim. He was clean-shaven and he dressed well, for a cowboy. Spurs was the exact opposite. He was short and a little on the chunky side. He had a black beard and a moustache. His clothes were full of holes and they were filthy dirty.
Boots grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the table and headed toward the door. Spurs, at the same time, grabbed the other bottle of whiskey from the table and headed toward the door. Both cowboys collided into one another.
“Hey, watch where you’re going!” shouted Spurs.
“Hey yourself,” said Boots angrily. “You should watch where you’re going. I was here first.”
“Oh no you weren’t,” shouted Spurs, even louder. “I was here first.”
The two cowboys stood in the middle of the saloon arguing like children. The bartender, who happened to be keeping a close eye on the two cowboys, came up to them.
“Gentlemen,” the bartender said. “I don’t want any trouble here. I run a clean and respectable business and I aim to keep it that way. Now, why don’t the two of you take your business outside?”
“Alright,” said Boots. “Let’s go!”
“Well, why don’t we wait a little while,” said Spurs. “I’m getting mighty thirsty. Why don’t I meet you outside at sunrise?”
“Sunrise it is,” said Boots.
The two cowboys went back to the table that they had been sitting at. Every so often, Boots looked over at Spurs and Spurs looked over at Boots.
The other occupants left the saloon shortly after midnight. Only Boots, Spurs and the bartender remained. Both cowboys sat in their seats and drank and drank and drank.
Finally sunrise rolled around. At the exact same moment both men staggered outside. The bartender locked the door behind them and went upstairs to bed.
The sun was bright orange in the distant sky. Boots and Spurs found themselves face to face. Just as they were about to raise their fists, both of them passed out in the middle of the dusty street.
A few weeks went by and Boots and Spurs were in the saloon at the exact same time. Once again, they were seated directly across from each other.
“Now gentlemen,” the bartender said when he saw the two glance at each other. “I don’t want any trouble out of either one of you tonight.”
“Well, I don’t know what you are talking about,” said Boots. “I’ve never met this man in my life before.”
Spurs shook his head up and down.
“That’s right,” said Spurs. “We’ve never laid eyes on one another. I never forget a face.”
The bartender started to say something, but decided against it. He walked away from the two, shaking his head and laughing to himself.
Moral of this Story:
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