In honor of John Wayne’s 101st birthday, I thought I’d take a moment to broach the topic of cowboys. I’m not all that fond of cowboys. This is not meant in any way to disrespect true cowboys; rather, it seems the type of person who likes to don cowboy hats and boots are, in my experience, morons.

          The American Cowboys: Gun-toting Simpletons.

Now, not all modern-day cowboys are wealthy, cartoonish lunkheads. You may be fortunate enough to come across a sensitive, hot, rugged cowboy who may or may not have homosexual tendencies. Consider yourself very lucky to find a man like this in the southwest.

My Heath Bar: The Exception to the Rule.

I do have a cowboy story I’d like to share. I’m sure The Duke would appreciate it.

When I was younger and slightly more dimwitted, I had a roommate to whom I’ll refer as “Ronny.”

Ronny liked to be naked. A lot. He also liked to have sex (almost as much as he enjoyed being naked).

As naive as I was back then, I did have enough wits about me to not become involved with Ronny, beyond sleeping in the bedroom next door to his room. It wasn’t that difficult for me. After witnessing Ronny and his best friend (I’ll call him “Billy Joe Bob”) cut holes in their old high school football pants, then walk around with their Uncle Woodys hanging out–well, that just killed any minute speck of attraction I may have been plundering deep in the ethos of my subconscious.

Until recently, Ronny had been sleeping with “Sheba,” the girl downstairs.

Sheba and I became friends under odd circumstances. My friend “Kelly” moved into the apartment beneath Ronny and me, and asked her friend Sheba to room with her. Despite having Kelly as a mutual friend, Sheba and I had never met.

The day Sheba moved in, she came upstairs to introduce herself. And to ask if she could watch our tv, since they hadn’t hooked theirs up yet. I looked up, up, up at this blonde-haired, blue-eyed Amazon woman (she’s a 6′2 Kirsten Dunst) and determined I could probably take her, if need be. You know, in case Kelly had really poor judgment in the friend department and I’d just allowed a crazy supermodel inside to watch Ricki Lake with me.

We settled onto the couch. About twenty minutes after the “go Ricki, go Ricki” anthem, she turned to me and asked if I could help her with something. Foolishly I first agreed, then asked what she needed.

“I just got my nipples pierced, and I need help putting the new rings in.”

I didn’t quite know what to say. She got up, took off her shirt and bra and walked back into my bedroom. “There’s better light in here,” she called to me.

For whatever reason, I got up and walked back there. She was standing there topless, holding two hoops in her hand. “I’m just scared to do it myself,” she explained. She cupped her boob with her left hand. “Could you please help?”
Writing this out now, it surely sounds like a seduction scene.You’re probably thinking, “Cue the chick-a-ba-wow porn music.” But that was not the vibe I got at all at the time, and I did go in and help her. And this is how Sheba and I became best friends. After something like that, you just kind of bond. We were pretty much inseparable from that day on.

Unfortunately, I told Ronny all about it when he got home later that night. At that point, we were still friends. Ronny couldn’t wait to meet Sheba. When I introduced them the next day, there was an instant attraction between them. Within days, they slept together.

Ronny, however, is a ‘mo (not a homosexual, but a male ho. I just liked to call him a mo because he’s homophobic) and he soon started bringing home different girls on nearly a daily basis. The best part of sex for Ronny was letting everyone know he was getting it. He’d bang his fist on our shared wall and yell, “Do you hear that? Do you hear me?”

Yes, we all could hear. Even Sheba, whose bedroom was right below Ronny’s.

Sheba eventually got sick of this, and told Ronny it was over between them. Ronny was completely unfazed.

One day, I was in the living room, studying for an exam. At this point, the relationship between my roommate and me was deteriorating. I couldn’t stand Ronny. I tried to stay away as much as possible. If I wasn’t at school or work, I would be downstairs at Sheba and Kelly’s place. Ronny had dropped out of school and was fired for smoking weed on the job, so he pretty much spent his time eating my groceries and finding new ways to expose himself around us.

But, on this particular day, I was stuck at the apartment until my shift started at work. Ronny walked into the living room wearing nothing but a cowboy hat and boots.

He kept wandering around, sticking his chest out, saying “Eh?” over and over again, to get my attention. When that didn’t work, he simply stood in the middle of the living room, free willy and all, grinning at me until I looked up.

“That’s a new look,” I muttered, and tried to go back to studying my humanities text.

“You think I should show Sheba?” Ronny asked proudly.

“I don’t think Sheba cares to see you,” I said pointedly, “especially since Herpes kept us all up late last night.” I liked to give his random one night stands names, since he didn’t bother to find out.

“I bet she does want to see me,” he exclaimed, “and I bet she’ll f**k me once she sees me.”

“Well,” I suggested, ‘Why don’t we make this interesting. I bet you five bucks you go downstairs and she won’t want to sleep with you.”

“You’re on!” he said eagerly. He grinned from ear to ear, and tipped his cowboy hat to me.

“I dare you to walk downstairs like that.” I grinned back at him.

“Okay!”

I stood up. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

Ronny started to look a little nervous. “Will you look outside to see if anyone’s in the hallway?”

“Sure,” I agreed. I stepped out and looked around. “No one’s there.”

“Ok,” he said nervously, “here I go.”

He turned, and strutted out the door, bare buttocks and all. I could hear his cowboy boots clacking down the steps.

I shut the door, and locked it. Then I called Sheba.

“Don’t answer the door,” I told her, “Ronny’s naked outside.”

Within seconds, I could hear furious knocking. “Sheba! Let me in!”

Sheba giggled over the phone. “I’m watching him through the peephole!”

I heard clack, clack, clack up the stairs. Then I saw the doorknow turn. Then the knocking started.

“Let me in! Jen, I’m locked out! Let me in!”

Sheba and I were hysterical now.

I opened the door. Ronny was standing there, covering himself with the cowboy hat.

“Well that was a quckie!” I said sweetly.

“F**king bitch!” he yelled, and ran into his room.

I never saw him naked again. Thank god.

I also never got my five bucks.

And folks, that is my cowboy story.

Thank you. Good night.