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The Rusty Goat

Online home of author Rodney Strange, alias 'The Rusty Goat'

Rodney Strange, author, entrepreneur, over-the-hill wanna-be cowboy, and west Texas' most eligIble bachelor.

Rodney Strange wrote under the pen name 'The Rusty Goat' for years!

I am an author. I have to remind myself of that sometimes. I've kept that part of me a secret to many people for a very long time. In fact, up until two years ago I never attached my name to any of my writings, disguised behind the mask of 'The Rusty Goat.' It was out of necessity at first. Those stories in the very beginning were about real live people, mostly crazy women, who had haphazardly crossed my path, most times only hours before the tales went live on the internet for all to see. So, you can see the need for secrecy. For years I have spun humorous stories based on my own adventures in life and share them with a vast online audience with my weekly blogs on the Rusty Goat website. I welcome you into my online home!

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Today's Blog Post and Other Passing Thoughts by Rodney Strange, author, entrepreneur, over-the-hill wanna-be cowboy, and west Texas' most eligIble bachelor.

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With author Rodney Strange, alias 'The Rusty Goat'
Strange Thinking
08/13/2017 09:59 AM
'And That's How It Started'


Continued from last week's story 'Just Jacy'...  

My eyes fixated on the spinning digits on the gas pump, my jaw set in determination. With the speed of a striking diamondback, I popped the trigger on the handle. Uttering a mild curse, I shook my head in defeat.
"Twenty dollars and three cents! I'll never hit on twenty even!"
As I screwed the gas cap on, my eyes raised and fixated themselves on a little mail jeep scooting up to the convenience store, brakes squealing.
"Whoa! I've never seen a mail lady that looks like that!"
I watched as a long, tall filly exited the jeep, her long brunette hair flowing in the west Texas breeze. As she entered the store, I couldn't help but notice her legs were even longer than that ravenous head of hair. I also couldn't help but notice her shorts, which probably were not official post office issued attire, but as I pursed my lips, were very nice fitting shorts nonetheless. I sighed. I had been avoiding Jacy Marrow, the manager of the convenience store, for a couple of weeks, still mortally wounded from her rejection. I decided I could 'man up' and venture inside for a Dr. Pepper...and a closer look at that mail lady.
Jacy's eyes immediately locked onto mine as I stepped inside, a twinkle flashing only briefly as she again turned her attention to the mail lady standing in front of her.
"I have no clue where Baker Road is. Rusty, can you help this...person out? Do you know?"
I dutifully and eagerly stepped toward the two, my fleeting glance turning from Jacy toward the brunette.
"Hi, I swear I've never seen you around town before." I extended my hand and introduced myself.
A warm smile spread across her face, "I'm Leslie. I usually work up the road in Sunup. I'm here covering for Bob Rickett while he recovers from knee replacement surgery. So, could you help me? This is my very last delivery of the day and for the life of me, I can't find Baker Road."
My eyes focused on those beautiful hazel eyes set so delicately into...
"If you two would kindly step aside, I could take care of these other customers!" Jacy brought me back into reality with her sharp command.
"You know, I didn't even know Sunup had a post office, Leslie." I smiled as her face lit up as I gently touched her arm to move the two of us away from the counter.
"Baker Road is right at the end of this side street. It's a dirt road that leads to the edge of town. Not but one house at the end of the road and...say, is that mail for Sam Tolbert, 'cause he died last month. I'm good friends with his son, T-Roy. I could just take the mail to him."
A look of bewilderment passed over her face, " I have to deliver the mail at that address...policy, you know."
I grunted softly under my breath, "Well, think you can find the place? I don't mind letting you follow me over there."
Leslie smiled graciously, "No, I think I can find it now, providing you gave me good directions."
I nodded, 'Left at the end of that street. Can't miss it."
My stare followed her out the door and I watched as the mail jeep pulled away.
"Wipe that drool from the corner of your mouth!" Jacy snapped, "And exactly where have you been the past two weeks. I texted you several times and you never replied. I bet you'd be right on it if that mail chick texted you!"
"Jacy, don't get your panties in a wad. I asked you out, you respectfully declined, and I respect that. I just decided maybe I should just keep moving along."
"Well, you sure give up easy!" Her blue eyes flashed.
"Okay, do you want to go out with me this weekend?"
"No, not right now. I'm pissed at you right now. Come back tomorrow and ask me again! And why did you even come in here anyway?"
"Oh yeah, I...uh needed a Dr. Pepper."

"I'm sure glad you called me. I got called out of town to work and I'm expecting a life insurance check for a substantial amount." T-Roy's voice boomed in my ear.
"How substantial?" I asked as I reached into his dead daddy's mail box.
"Well, I'd rather keep that personal...ten thousand dollars! I called the insurance company and they said the check was in the mail."
I studied the envelope in my hand, "I dunno. It could be an insurance check."
"Open it!" came T-Roy's voice eagerly over the phone.
"Naw, it says 'Your subscription to Maxim has expired."
I heard a sigh on the other end of the phone.
"Could you do me a big favor and check the mailbox every day? Way out there, somebody is liable to abscond with that check. That'd be my luck. I gotta get that funeral paid off!"
"T-Roy, that's what friends are for. I'd be happy to keep an eye out for that check for you."
The following day I eased up in front of old Sam Tolbert's house on the edge of town and sauntered up to the old wooden porch with a Route 44 Sonic Root Beer in hand. I settled onto the warped and worn old boards and kept my eyes peeled on the road. Thirty minutes later I saw a cloud of dust chasing a little white mail jeep...heading my way. A huge grin spread across my face as I gulped my root beer.
And that's how it started...

See Previous Posts From author Rodney Strange alias 'The Rusty Goat!'
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