the inspection

it was a small town in Texas
full of turkeys.
I had just married the
daughter
and they had come to her
house to see who I
was.
the relatives and the
devil knows
who else.

now it was over
and I was sitting on the
edge of the bed
sucking on a beer
bottle
and my wife stood
there.

“they liked you,”
she said.

“yeah?”

“they expected some
boy, not
you.”

“ah?”

“you drank more
whiskey than any of
them, even Uncle
Paul, and you
didn’t even
blink.”

“it was good
whiskey.”

“you’re in,” said my
wife, “they won’t
bother us.”

“are they supposed
to?”

“they ran off the
last one…”

“the last one?
wait a minute
here…”

“we were engaged.”

“anybody I know?”

she laughed.

“also, when they used
the word ‘nigger’ you
didn’t protest.”

“I thought they were
talking to me.
hell, baby, I’m a
nigger.”

I walked to the
kitchen and got
another beer.
all the whiskey
was gone.

when I got back
she was standing
there
smiling.

“but you know.”
she said, “what
made the
biggest hit?”

“no, tell me…”

“it was when you walked
out wearing
blue jeans!”

“yeah?”

“oh, yes!
they won’t bother us
now!”

I has passed
muster.

the parade could
begin.