Home > Funny Stories by Dick Oakes > Funny Stories by Dick Oakes, Jr.

Funny Stories by Dick Oakes, Jr.

Dick Oakes, Jr.

Dick Oakes, Jr.

It was a bunch of us standing out in the desert watching a couple of guys fight with knives. I put a bet down on the Outlander– he was a big sturdy guy in a stretched t-shirt. There was a message on the t-shirt– it was a little cartoon bird with a word bubble that said, “I look good in green” even though the shirt was orange. I couldn’t figure on any of it.

The fight went on for a good hour– both of these hicks making all sorts of feints and then pulling back. I walked over to the guy that had collected the money.

“Give me my bet back– this ain’t going nowhere,” I said.

“Fuck off, Oakes,” he shot back. “Look here, your boy just got a good cut in.”

Sure enough, the Outlander had pierced the other guy’s thigh. Blood was everywhere- all over the sand. They called it.

I ended up with about $75.

I huffed it into town and started looking around for a bed for the night. Found a place called the Moongate– the office looked like it was wearing a gold crown. I couldn’t make nothing out of it but the lot was clean. They had just put the sign on– the light was fading down over a copse of half-dead trees.

The manager was a tall, angular kid leaning back on a stool and reading a coffee table book called Hot Air Balloons. He threw it under the counter when I walked up.

“You don’t have to throw your book around,” I said. “I don’t care none.”

He got real red. “What book, mister? I didn’t have no book. We only got a couple of suites left. It’s vacation season.”

I took the suite. I was flush. I even had the kid order me up a Coronado plate and some french fried potatoes and have it sent up to the room.

“Put a dollar on there for yourself,” I said. I took a mint out of a little jar on the counter and immediately cracked a molar.

“Those are made of steel, mister. Just show mints. You alright?”

I’d figure I’d live.15818614903_1403560a19_z

The room was done up in turquoise carpeting with an orange sofa and settee. I put the teevee on and flopped on the bed. There wasn’t a lot of give but it’d do. Some nonsense came on about some cowboys who were trying to traverse a perilous gulch. After awhile, they fell into the gulch. The camera remained focused on the spot where they had been– it seemed like minutes passed– you kind of thought they were going to climb back up but they didn’t. Then the credits went up. I couldn’t figure on it.

A knock came at the door then and a little redhead in a checked outfit and white skirt pushed the food through. I thought about how I hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning.

I gave the redhead a tip and slapped her on the ass as she was leaving. She turned around.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, mister.” Her eyes were like bullets.

“Well, that’s what they say about me,” I responded. “They say, that Oakes, he shoots from the hip.”

“Is that why you were assing off in the desert– watching a couple of bums fight with knives earlier?” she said. “I saw you– I drove by in my car. You’re just a bum yourself.”

I ushered her out. I didn’t feel like it none. Another show was coming on– it was cowboys wandering alongside a gulch again. It didn’t make no sense– none of it.

But the eatin’ was good.

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