Monday, October 15, 2012

Horse Play

I had spent a long night drinking, making friends and enemies of the various people around me. As usual, I was by far the most boisterous person around. Hoover, the closing of the bar was about to bring my tom-foolery to a premature end. I was not yet ready to go home. I still had buckets of energy and the enthusiasm and foolhardy will to apply it. I followed the ebb-and-flow of wavering humanity into the gloomy night, in search of some new and greater mischief. Such mischief materialized in the four-footed form of an equestrian nature.

The horse stood three hands taller than me, brown fur and dark eyes staring mutely amidst a crowd of half-bent and stumbling louts. It stood firm like a butte of sea stone upon which morning waves would break and split themselves. I immediately recognized an opportunity to make, if not a true friend, than at least an amicable acquaintance. The question of why exactly a horse should be standing in the middle of a New York street at three in the morning did not seem all too important to me at the time. I stumbled forward and introduced myself to the beast.

I explained that as I was from Texas, I was familiar with how to properly handle horses, and that the fellow need not be worried about being lost in the large city, as I would gladly see it home. The horse whinnied in acknowledgement.

My comments sparked the interest of several passers by. One fellow exclaimed that he, too, was from Texas. He quickly joined in the discussion and the three of us amicably reminisced about Texas, ranches and the open prairie sky. All in all, we had a most enjoyable conversation.

Our talking was brought up sharply by a gruff cough. I looked around, but could see no one other than myself and my two companions. A second cough drew my gaze upward to the man, who had presumably been sitting astride the friendly horse this entire time. A man, I might add, who looked eerily similar to a a police officer.

The man frowned down at us. He seemed incensed that two drunkards had spent the last ten minutes talking with his mount. A can't imagine exactly why he would find this frustrating. Realizing that I had, technically,, just assaulted a police officer, I sheepishly retreated, chased by the glowers of one of New York's finest.

So, it would behoove one to remember that horses that wander around city neighborhoods at night tend to be attached to people who might not be amused by your attempts at befriending their steeds.

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