Annie’s boots dug into the sides of her steed, and she pulled the reins in.
“Whoa, there, Georgie,” she drawled, “We’re here. You can slow down now!”
The girl nudged her donkey (yes, not a horse; it’s a recession, you know!) into the town.
They clipped and clopped their way along the path, with Annie taking in the sights. Unfortunately, other people seemed to count her as one of these sights, and started pointing and chuckling at her.
“`s it just me, Billy, or – ”
“Yeah, that donkey – ”
“By God, there’s really nothing – “
Annie frowned at them, and pushed Georgie on faster.
“What d’you reckon they’re whispering about, Georgie?”
The donkey made an odd squealing sound, something like ‘Yeeee-haaaawwwaaa!’. Like women everywhere, Annie took what had actually been said (in this case, ‘Where’s all the grass? I’m hungry!’) and interpreted it as something personally against her appearance.
“My hair?” she muttered. “Damn right, I know I oughta have had it cut last year. Maybe if I tie it up with some rope…”
Annie fixed her hair, and the pair set off down the dusty road once again. They went on about five minutes more, before the whispering started up again.
“Why, just look – ”
“Whatta laugh, I just – “
Annie looked mournfully to her mount.
“What could it be now, Georgie?”
This time, the animal snorted at her. Maybe it was to keep out the dust beng kicked up with each one of the donkey’s steps – or maybe it was a derisive snort, making fun of Annie’s clothes. Annie chose to believe the latter.
“Yes, I guess it’s mighty time I replaced these old rags – golly, there’s a nice-looking shop right there.”
An hour and a rather large bag of silver later, Annie climbed onto Georgie again. Only this time, she ws wearing a new pair of jeans. Skinny jeans. Also this time, they got to walk a good ten minutes before people started pointing at her again.
“That’s the straw that broke the rider on the donkey’s back, Georgie,” Annie growled. She kicked into the poor beast’s sides with her boot spurs. With George yeee-hawwwing and Annie scowling, they left the town behind in a cloud of orangey-red dust.
A little outside the borders, Annie saw a cowboy and his horse trotting towards the town Annie and Georgie had just left.
“Hey, fella,” she called out. “Can I ask you a question? Rider to rider?”
“Sure, miss. What seems to be the problem?”
“D’you see anything odd about how I look?”
The cowboy lifted his hat to scratch at his head properly.
“Well, now, miss – “
“Are you saying I’m fat, mister?”