Victory in a Can
I was agitated because I needed to ride my mules across the bridge leading from Iowa to Nebraska. It was hella narrow. He pulled up and asked, “do you drink beer?” and handed me a cold Pabst Blue Ribbon.
“Hell yeah!” I said and tucked the beer away in my pommel bag. He gave me the thumbs-up and I rode toward the bridge that was giving me the yips. I felt calmer knowing there was a reward waiting for me on the other side.
Bridge crossed, I drank the beer. It was still cold and I was thankful he asked me if I drank beer.
2 Responses to Victory in a Can
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That bridge looks like two beers maybe. Does traffic get scared in spots?
Todd. Bridges are measure like cold nights. You’ve got three dog nights and you’ve got three beer bridges. I could have definitely celebrated with a few more cold ones after crossing this on. Narrowest one so far…with impatient drivers to boot. Whew. Makes me look forward to a no beer bridge.