What Did Marge Aaron Find Out?
It was a warm, sunny spring day. Hadley Joy Morris Whitfield, Marge Aaron, Robinson Leary and Mary Rose McGill were enjoying a glass of iced tea on the patio of Meadow Lakes Retirement Community. The large complex was in lockdown due to the Covid-19 virus, so they were spread out around the large patio table, six feet apart, holding their glasses instead of putting them on the table with the big pitcher of tea. Four masks lay on the table, waiting to be tucked behind their ears when they went inside.
Marge Aaron’s computer was open in front of her.
“Marge,” Robbie said, “I’m the one who is never without my computer. What are you doing, girlfriend?”
Marge looked up and smiled.
“Genealogy,” she said, and bent her head back over the keyboard.
They were quiet.
“And…?” Hadley asked.
Marge hit a few keys and looked up. “I found an ancestor, and I want to share her with you. She has to be one of the original Burned Out Old Broads.”
Marge was grinning from ear to ear.
“Listen to this, girls. This is from a diary of a women who was best friends with my great-aunt, Ada Mae.
Ada Mae was a prospector. A genuine gold digger during the gold rush in Colorado. One day she rode her old mule into town. I see her with a big, black floppy western hat, a money belt, brown pants. and a flannel shirt. The mule had packs and all the supplies she needed for a trip to town.
Ada Mae got off the mule, dusted herself, wiped the dirt off her face and tied the mule up in front of the saloon. As she turned around, a young gunslinger swaggered out of the saloon, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a gun in the other.
He spotted Ada Mae and grinned.
“Hey ya old bag,” he said, “you like to dance?”
“Nope,” Ada Mae says. “Never did dance. Never did want to.”
“Well you’re gonna dace now,” the gunslinger says, and he fires a shot at Ada Mae’s feet.
Not wanting to lose any of her toes, Ada Mae started hopping around.
A crowd gathered and started laughing.
The gunslinger was laughing, too.
He emptied the gun into the dirt at Ada Mae’s feet and said, “You dance pretty good for an old broad.”
Then he turned and started back into the saloon.
Ada Mae reaches over to her mule and pulls out a double-barreled shotgun.
The crowd goes quiet.
She cocks both hammers and the gunslinger hears the loud click.
He slowly turns around and is staring into both barrels of the shotgun and he notices that Ada Mae’s hands are perfectly steady.
“Son,” Ada Mae says, “have you ever kissed a mule’s ass?”
The young gunslinger swallows and says, “No Ma’am, but I always wanted to.”
The girls laughed.
Mary Rose McGill clapped her hands.
“There are a lot of morals to that story,” Robinson Leary said. “Never be arrogant.”
“Don’t waste ammunition,” Marge the retired homicide detective said.
“Whiskey makes you think you’re smarter than you are,” Hadley added.
“Always make sure you know who has the power,” Mary Rose said.
“And most of all,” Marge finished. “Don’t mess with older women. They don’t get old by being stupid.”
“Never under estimate a burned out old broad,” Robbie and Hadley said together.
Hadley got up, moved to the table, picked up the pitcher and began to refill the glasses.
“I love mornings like this,” Mary Rose said, smiling.
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Another Old Women Don’t Get Old by Being Stupid
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Sunday, November 22, 1-4pm
Launch Party for BOOB Girls XI: The Last BOOB Girl Book
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900 North 90th St, Omaha, Nebraska
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