"These Boots Were Made for Walking" (and Not to Be Used As a Wallet)

Often, doing things the cheap way isn't always the best way. I learned that lesson a while back.

A few years ago, a bud and I flew to Nashville, Tennessee. Since I was traveling on the American Poverty Plan, I could ill afford to lose what little traveling money I had set aside for the excursion. But I didn't want to spend what it would cost to buy traveler's checks, so my "used-to-be" wife came up with a great idea. She suggested I put my $50.00 bill, which had to last two weeks, inside one of the cowboy boots I was wearing (yes, I've been known to wear them now and then). That way if I was accosted, the bad guys wouldn't get my money.

Well, early into our trip my friend Steve and I decided on pizza for dinner. We walked into a quaint little place and gave our order to the counter person.

As we made an attempt to seat ourselves at a table, it was pointed out that the policy was for customers to pay at the counter first. This bit of information caused Steve to burst into uncontrollable laughter, for he figured that the 50 dollars of mine had by now slithered all around the inside of my boot, and he could just picture the scene I'd make as I tried to hunt it down. And he was right.

There I was, standing on one leg, the other raised in the air, resembling something akin to a clumsy flamingo in cowboy boots, with both hands digging around inside the boot of my raised foot, searching for my money. I might as well have put a flashing neon sign on my back that read "COME ROB ME!"

This whole scenario wouldn't have been half so bad if it hadn't been for the broken table and chairs, not to mention my head, arm and ribs. You see, in my struggle to get my money out of its human vault, I began teetering back and forth. As I did so, I attempted, out of pure reflex, to grab the edge of the counter, which didn't work too well considering both my hands were down my boot.

I performed a nice pirouette (it was rated a 9.5 by customers and staff alike) and fell smack into the nearest table and chairs, landing in a couple of plates of spaghetti . . .and bread . . .and sauce
. . .and soda.

Not only did I break the furniture with my landing, but I, if you can believe it, ruined the romantic dinner for the young couple fortunate enough to be sitting there, witnessing my great acrobatic feat. I thought about charging them for the entertainment, but since my act wasn't mentioned on the menu, Steve advised me to leave it alone.

But the worst of this whole ordeal was how it all ended. You see, my arm and ribs weren't injured from smashing into the furniture. Nooooooo, that came later, when the E.M.T.s , after I told them what had happened, laughed so hard they dropped the stretcher they were carrying me on.

So, the next time you see a commercial on T.V. about the convenience of traveler's checks, take it from me, you really ought to listen.