Village of Equestrian Farts

The other day Natalie had a client who worked with horses. After the fitting she came out and told me about this woman--that she was an equestrian (a new word for Nat) and that she smelled like a village of equestrian farts. This conjured up such a vivid image for me. Picture an Olympic village for equestrian athletes and their mounts. I thinks it looks like an old Bavarian village with cobblestone streets and quaint, warm looking thatched roof houses with smoke coming out of the chimneys. There is a beer hall with big, long communal tables where all the villagers come in and sit together. They eat bratwurst with red cabbage and drink amber-colored beer out of large steins served by waitresses in traditional garb. At night they gather around the fire, raise their steins and sing patriotic drinking songs from their various country's of origin. Their horses, the finest in the world, are in big, luxurious barns with large stalls full of golden hay. Everyone man, woman, child and horse in the village are the picture of happiness. But there is something strange about this picturesque little hamlet. Any outsider who comes within 50 feet of it is instantly and violently turned away despite its otherwise inviting atmosphere. Depending on the light, at certain times of the day you can see a slightly yellow tinged cloud over the village and that is the source of what turns the outsiders away. There is a smell surrounding this village that is so repugnant that even stray dogs avoid it. It smells like sulfur, leather, sweat, port-a-potties and the dumpster behind a B-rated Indian restaurant. We all have Natalie to thank for this.

In an unrelated incident, still involving Natalie, she described the people that do our inventory as mollusks. She didn't know what it was but she likes the way it sounds.

Oh, and I was promoted to Assistant Manager, but I like the way Ass Manager sounds better so that is my new title.