Cousin Junebug

Cousins,
I don't know if you ever remember me talkin' about my Cousin Junebug. He is one good ol' boy, actually. He has a good education from Berea College and sells insurance down in my hometown of Beloved, Kentucky. He is a good lookin' young man, all the women folk will tell you that.

Problem is, he can't keep his eyes off the ladies. He is what we down home call a sweet talker. If I had a daughter near his age I would forbid him from comin' on the property.

Well sir, we had gone fishin' a few weeks ago for crappie and a few bluegill. Junebug says there is no fish better than bluegill for eatin'. I always am a arguin' with him 'cause I love good ol' crappie fried right crisp. On the way home with a big ol' mess of fish we passed a crew workin' on the road. The "flagger" - they don't call 'em flagmen anymore, ya know, well the flagger was a woman.

As we drove past, Junebug said, "Road crew chicks are hot.". I looked at him and could not believe he said that. Oh My Darlin' had taught me not to talk that way about women folks and I just was bumfuzzled at his statement.

When I asked what he said, Junebug repeated it. Said there is nothin' better than drivin' past a beautiful woman workin' on a road crew. They represented all that was good about life - standin' there dressed in a workshirt, bluejeans and workboots, skin tan and they was always fit.

I told him ya never got more than a glance at folks on the road crew, how could he know they was "hot"? Well sir, he said that was part of the mystery, like Suzanne Summers drivin' that T'bird in American Graffiti. The quick glance made them mysterious. He said they was the ultimate woman.

I knew it wasn't no time before he met one of the ladies workin' on the road crew. He did and he sweet talked her and before I knew it he had a date.

A few days later I was drivin' to work and saw the crane by the new bridge. It had somethin' hangin' from the hook at the end of the chain...

It was Junebug! Duct taped from head to toe and hangin' upside down from that hook by his Italian loafers.

I called Henry Wagers who is the head of the road department and Henry sent the feller what drives the crane over to let Junebug down.

I asked him what happened and found out after some hemmin' and hawin' from Junebug that he got a little too friendly and that his "road crew chick took exception to his advances and some of his thoughts on "road crew chicks". Seems like she was a graduate of UK, was workin' on her law degree and didn't appreciate Junebug at all.

When he tried to "git to know her better" she whupped his butt, wrapped him in duct tape and hung him up to dry.

I'm hopin' Cousin Junebug might get a 21st century attitude 'bout the "weaker" sex.