Let's Go Fishin

Many years ago my husband and his best friend decided that they wanted to go fishing at a lake. I would have been "stiff legged" to be left alone for a long weekend but the friend knew his wife would "go crazy". Therefore, a couples weekend was planned. I hate that stuff and I'm not a couples person either. I don't play well with others.

The Lake is about 50 miles from where we live and we would be staying in someones cabin -- another problem for me. Cabins, spiders, mice, ticks, lice, bed bugs, etc. I knew I was not gonna be a happy camper from the get-go. I also knew the other woman could be a terror and that made me smile. So it was decided that we would drive separate cars -- wonder why they would even come up, especially with a couples event planned??? Go figure.... So blankets and pillows and food and booze and rods and reels and bait and more booze and cards are packed. We hit the road.

My husband and I arrive on time. The other couple did not. Just as I expected, I'm still smiling, even broader. The friend is a good ole boy, easy come - easy go and real laid back. Wife not so much.

When the other couple finally arrived, 3 hours late it was dark and we had been in the booze and were sorta happy they made it. Then one of them had left something behind and I'm sure it was a crucial something needed for this trip but I could never recall what it was now. So the bickering starts. I pour another drink and suggest we all drink more. I think we do but again, I can't recall. Sometime later on we all turn in for the night. We were all glad to do that too.

The next morning we wake up with the sun shining in thru the dirtiest damned windows you have ever seen. The place didn't look too bad at night. Ohhhhhhh, during the daylight it wasn't pretty. Somehow if I walk on tiptoes, I can avoid most of that, at least I think so. I sorta lean over the commode seat too. Are you getting a fuzzy picture? My toes are pointing as I type. The men are cooking breakfast and laughing and the coffee does smell good. But wait, there is a person missing. What, don't tell me that I am the only female in this house. Yep, and that's why they are laughing. DAMNIT. I should have known. Well, I brought along a good book to read. Breakfast was good, the men cleaned up and I was full and happy and they were leaving. No, they weren't leaving without me. DAMNIT. Where is the other woman? Well, they said she wasn't happy and she went home. Hell, I wasn't happy when I woke up, but I'm still here. They went to look for a cooler for beer and told me to get ready to go fishing.

First things first. I don't like fish, I don't like to eat fish and I don't like to touch fish nor do I like the way they smell or make me smell. I protested -- hell no, I won't go. Oh how they bragged and bragged. By then, I was a hellofa fisherwoman. Give me that rod and I'll show you how to catch some fish.

We also hauled our little John boat (flat bottom boat) to the lake. It had a motor and sorta of a flat seat at the back by the motor and then there were round metal rods that you were supposed to sit your rounded ass on to fish for hours. Hmmm I was pretty sure my ass was not that rounded and would not sit nor stay on very long. The men loaded the cooler which not only contained beer on ice, but Bologna with Miracle Whip (oh God) sandwiches too.

The boat was pulled up on the sandy bank and the friend was in the back where the motor was and the husband was on the bank giving me advice and a helping hand into the boat. I was to get in the middle, sit on the cooler, be still and do as they said. I was not happy. I told them where to put the rods, reels and cooler. They said they were kidding but they weren't. I'm on a cooler, husband is on the metal rod on his flat ass and with a paddle is backing us out into the lake. I am handed a baseball hat and told I need that to keep sun out of my eyes so I can see where to cast my plug. That way I won't get tangled up in trees and waste allot of their time trying to get mme untangled. My mood is changing quickly - from unhappy to MEAN.

Things went well. We have maneuvered out into the middle of the lake, boys are laughing and joking and my plan is to outdo them. They want me to cast on the opposite side of the boat which they are casting on so that I don't get tangled up in their lines and "cause a mess". Probably no fish over there either. I thought, I'll show you.

I rared way back and cast my line and start working that plug and reeling that baby in and all of a sudden something grabbed my line and jerked the hell out of it and I screamed I have a bite, a big one. I jerked and I felt something. Guess what, I had hooked myself in the top of my head. Hell yea, I had a big one alright. A 130 pounder. Then I pulled and it hurt. Then I screamed. Then they cursed and we all cursed. It must have been after I had gotten my rounded butt settled that I took that hat off. It would have protected my tender scalp. OH MY GOD. I was terrified. I knew they were so pissed, no one had caught anything and then I (on purpose) pull this stunt. So tears and mascara are running down my cheeks and we go back to the sandy bank where we had put the boat in the water.

The men help me out of the boat and tell me to sit on some old firewood, full of spiders, while they get their pliers. What the hell did they just say? Pliers? I need medical attention now, and probably a tetanus shot -- not pliers. They happen to have pliers in their tackle boxes to take hooks out of the fishes mouths, can you imagine how damn clean those pliers are? Can you? Oh God, I am gonna die for sure. It gets even better. Since there are "treble hooks" on the plugs that translates to their being about 6 different hooks in my tender scalp. Those hooks have little things called barbs on them and they prevent the fish from spitting the hook out of their mouths. Soooooooooo, you cannot back the hook out of where it went it -- GUESS WHAT. YOU HAVE TO PUSH THEM THRU THE SKIN. OH NO, OH GOD NO. Well I'm told, it won't be that bad, one will push as the other takes "his sharp knife" and cuts a 'tiny' hole to push it through.

All of the procedures were done and we even, believe it or not, had a pint of Wild Turkey Whiskey in the cooler (lucky us - The Gods were with us that day) and they were able to spare a little bit for my wounds so I didn't get an infection and we each had a sip for good luck and prosperity. They were way to good to me. I did end up having to get the tetanus shot too.

But even though this is a good story, it could all have been prevented if one man could have kept one woman happy for just 8 hours. Is that to much to ask of one stupid man?

Happy Trails and I'm Still Looking For That Elusive Cowboy