“B’for you start, I ain’t buy’in.”“No sir,” I smiled. “I’m not selling anything. I’m actually looking for work.”“Well, if this...was still a working ranch I’d say yeah,” he laughed, “but this here ranch hasn’t seen cattle for nearly five years.”“Why is that,” I asked.“Water,” he said. “The hay fields all turned to dust and we started losing more cattle than we were producing. Sent all the cattle up north to our other ranch. They ain’t doing much better on the hay fields but it seems that they’re. Visiting a more anonymous restaurant, however, seemed to soothe her nerves, and I could see her noticeably relax. She knew tonight would be just for us.The restaurant, located in a historic farmhouse and run by a family for two generations, had made quite a name for itself. It offered room for a maximum of twenty guests, but the other guests only occupied half of the seats at this hour. The majority of the guests would come later. Most of the food they served was homegrown, and though they. When I was invited for the festivities, I accepted and enjoyed visiting but didn't offer much in the way of bright conversation on the topic of college football.Two rather excitable and buxom young women took me under their wing and into their hearts, panties, and beds. It was strictly in the interest of research on the topic of college sports that I put up with such aggressive behavior.The tall one – Kelly – had a peculiar habit of announcing her sexual escapades as if she were a sports. Do you?"I looked up at Donna, but instead of the smile I expected, therewas a dark look on her face that I had never seen before."What's wrong?" I asked."Nothing. Let's eat." Startled, I followed her into the enormousdining room, which was already crowded with suntanned couples intheir tuxes and fancy dresses. Our table seated six, and ourcompanions for the voyage were already there: a pair of emptynesters from New Jersey and two tipsy women who were vacationingfrom their husbands. They greeted.