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Bus Story: Leave the Briefcase and Bring Your Lariat

February 3, 2011

He’s bawling until my lungs hurt. This unhappy little dude, scooped up by his mum and carried onto the bus, is letting all of us feel his frustration. There is only one rider who seems unaffected by the caterwauling tyke. Seated alone, towards the back, he’s an older gent, perhaps in his late 70’s, very gaunt and dressed more for a ride on an Appaloosa than the ole 54. Well worn dungarees, a serviceable thick cotton shirt, and a long, weather-beaten coat make the majority of his look but his hat and boots complete it. The boots are fancy, but well used, with intricate black-on-black leather inlay, and well placed silver accents. His hat is wide-brimmed, also in black, with shiny silver medallions evenly spaced around the crown. His grizzled intensity is unaffected by the young boy, intent on pushing his own volume to “eleven”. Perhaps this prairie-hardened wrangler has come to the city to apply his skills to the corporate world. Wrangler comes from a term “to dispute” or “to wrestle” – I know most businesses could use someone unaffected by intense whining to do a little dispute resolution. Saddle up, vaqueros, and let’s ride!


From → Bus Stories

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