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RUPERTSVILLE, TN Tom Stanford put a little extra gel in his hair on Saturday night. He put on some extra Old Spice. He got dressed up in his crisp new Wranglers and his best snakeskin boots. Because Stanford was going out—and he had just two words for the guy he saw in the mirror: chick magnet.
At approximately 9 p.m., Stanford pulled his ’83 Ford pickup into the parking lot at the Leopard Lounge and sauntered through the door to the bar. He ordered a can of Schlitz and made his way to the dance floor. He selected a table next to the floor, so he could scope out prospective dance partners. And there were some lovely ladies there. Yes, there were.
Upon finishing four or five more cans of Schlitz, Stanford decided that the women had been forced to wait for him long enough. But—lucky for them—there was plenty of him to go around.
So Stanford went out to bust a move—to dazzle the ladies with his fancy footwork. He joined one group of young women, dancing with each one of them, overwhelming them with his smoothness while ignoring the insignificant detail that none of them were actually dancing with him. Or making eye contact. In fact, they were snickering. And whispering.
Stanford lost interest in that group of women, so he then moved on to the next group of lucky ladies. He danced with each one of them as well. One of them, a stunning brunette, turned to him and said, “Nice boots, Garth.” She then laughed and walked away.
Finally, though, after hours of making the rounds, Stanford found not one woman at the Leopard Lounge who was truly worthy of such a handsome stud as himself. So he left the dance floor, finished his last Schlitz, and went home.
At work this morning, Stanford reported to coworker Robert “Bud” Williams, “Man, you shoulda been there! The chicks were all over me this weekend! Too bad none of them were my type. Maybe next week….”
And thus the search continues for a woman worthy of this stud in tight jeans.
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