Dear Stallion

He was mad.  There was no doubt about it. He walked straight to my table in the restaurant with an angry look on his face. I believe if there had been a steak knife on the table, he might’ve used it on me. He sat down across from me and said, “You are a jerk!” (or, something like that). 

I certainly didn’t think this was the way for two best friends to greet one another, but after he told me how everything went down, I think he might’ve had a point. Or, maybe my judgement just was clouded because I was laughing so hard.

I’ll be honest, I’m not always looking to play practical jokes on people, but when I see an opportunity, I usually won’t pass it up.  And in this instance, it looked like a pretty good opportunity. The victim was my best friend Gene. For over half a century we’ve done everything together.  At this time in our lives, we were even employed by the same company.  Work made it necessary both of us to attend a trade show in Mobile.  Since our company’s travel budget that was tighter than freshly washed jeans, we had to room together. 

He walked in my office as I gathered some sales material to put in my car, since I was leaving before he did.  

He said, “Hey, listen, my cell phone’s not working. So, when you check in the hotel, leave me a note, let me know where you’re eating dinner, and after I check in, I’ll meet you there.”

“Yeah, sure,” I replied.  Sounds to me like someone probably hadn’t paid their phone bill. 

After an uneventful drive to Mobile, I checked in, dropped my luggage in my room, and got ready to head out. First, I grabbed the hotel stationary to leave a note.  At this point, I still had no bad intentions.

But as I put pen to paper, I don’t know what happened.  It’s like a little voice inside me said, “Go ahead, write something bad.  It will embarrass him, and it will be hilarious.”   This is the same little voice that has got me in trouble many times in my life.  And as usual, I listened to it. 

I began in my best flowing longhand:  

“Dear Stallion, 

I’m at the Outback Steak House around the corner. Come on and have dinner with me - but when you get back, you are going to be my dessert.” 

What followed were several paragraphs that were so dirty and explicit it would have made a rapper blush. If my mother had read it, she would have washed my mouth out with Lysol, and spanked me with a switch – and I was adult!  It was that bad - or that good, depending if you were listening to the little voice.

To top off this piece of prose, I signed it, “Your Love Slave, Joseph”. Then I put some Chapstick on my lips,and pressed them on the paper beside my signature.  The little voice loved this.  Properly finished, I sealed the envelope, put his name on the front, and left it at the front desk.

It was a couple of beers and about half a steak later, when he stormed in the restaurant. 

“You know you amaze me.  I bust my butt to get down here to have dinner with you, and I get this.” 

“Whatever are you talking about?” I said. Joan of Arc couldn’t have spoken with any more innocence. 

“Don’t give me that crap Joe Hobby,” he said.   I fly down here, check in as fast as I can, throw my clothes on the bed, and head out the door, when I saw the message light on the phone blinking.  I pick it up, and the front desk manager says, “Mr. Trent, we have an envelope with your name on it.” 

“And do you know what I did?”

He paused for a second before he spoke.  “I said, look I’m in a big hurry - just open it and read it to me.”

All these years later, and I’m laughing out loud as I type this.  Sometimes jokes work better than you could ever imagine.

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#practicaljokes #hewasthestallion #embarassingmoments