My first beer, well, my first real beer... (there were a few instances where we took some cans from my friend's dads case, but it was this Olde Style crap that we couldnt take more than a sip of. Ack!)
Anyways, back to my first real beer. Its related to Ag Week in a few different ways.
First, it was in a tractor.
Second, we were in a field.
And Third, I was with a dairy farmer. Yeah, a dairy farmer. Well, the son of a dairy farmer, and 2 years and grades older than myself.
This is how it went. Well first I should maybe mention that I had stolen this guy from a friend of mine. Yeah, some friend I was right? But in my defense, I didnt actually intend to steal him. They were dating and he spent a lot of time in the Ag building... (Which if you are a faithful reader of Musings, then you know what that is by now, and that I, too, spent a lot of time there)
When I first met him (I was in 9th grade at the time) he was sitting in the office of the ag building just dinking around. And since that was common there, I went in and started talking to him. I had nothing to do. I didnt even like him like that at first, so quit judging me already! Anyways.. He was in FFA and 4H and he had dairy cattle and was doing field work. We became fast friends. He ended up breaking up with his girlfriend after a while and then later (later as in weeks, not hours, people!) he invited me out to his house for dinner. I knew his parents from 4H and adored them both so I agreed.
He gave me a tour of his farm. It was dark outside already and he kissed me next to a giant bale of straw.. It was so sweet. But nothing against him or anything... But I think I was more turned on by all the giant hay bales and the big farm machinery and mooing cows than I was by him. But its all about learning and the experience, right?
It was a Friday night and his dad had some work for him to do in the field, so without even an invitation I jumped up into that combine in front of him and he looked up at me and gave me one of those interested, quizzical looks. Most of his past girlfriends wouldnt go near his dirty farm, much less voluntarily climb into a dusty old combine in the middle of the night. I know I impressed him.
He joined me in the combine and took the drivers seat. And he offered me a can Miller Lite. Now, stop judging him, because I know where your mind just went. He had no intentions of getting me drunk that night. Nor did I get drunk. I remember being a little nervous. I didnt know how I would handle a beer. But I drank the beer and I kissed him some more. It was a fun, innocent evening. Then he drove me home in his big, dusty Ford pickup truck. We saw each other a few more times. But it never would have lasted. We were too good of friends for anything to come out of it. And I dont regret it one bit because that country boy and his parents took on a huge role in the upcoming years of my life. He taught me everything he knew about the dairy industry. They leased me holstein heifers to show for them. There were numerous times when his dad would have to come out and jump or tow the old Jeep Wagoneer when it would die on the side of hwy45.
I talked with that country boy just the other day. He is one of my closest friends in the world. One of those comfortable opposite sex friends who can call you 'babe' and 'beautiful girl' in the middle of a conversation without it meaning anything except true, friendly affection. This friend is one of the many who helped launch me into my agricultural endeavors. And I love him for it.
Oh, did I mention that he's a redhead? Whodathunkit.
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