Story Teller

I warned you that I may take the words in my profile one at a time and blog on it. So, he goes one. Before you read this post, I have to tell you that it deals with eating rodent.

Anyone who knows me will tell you that I like to tell stories. They may also tell you that I’m not the best story teller, or that I can sometimes get tedious in the telling. They aren’t bad stories, though. I like hearing them. Now, when I tell a story it’s always based on truth. I do like to embellish, not so that it takes away the underlying truth, or makes the story unbelievable, or makes me appear to be something I’m not. There is no formula for truth v. embellishment. It varies. The goal is to tell a good story.

One of the many books I’ve had swimming around in my head is a memoir about times spent and adventures had in the woods. This story didn’t happen while spending time outdoors, however, it’s one I like to tell. It’s a little long, and there is no embellishment to this one. It is as was. I hope you like it.

Several years ago I was working in a warehouse for a company that shall be left unknown. Partly due to liability reasons, but mainly because I just don’t like them. Anyway, we were in the break room for lunch one day, and I was regaling my coworkers with stories of places I’ve been and different foods I’ve eaten. I say regaling, they may say repulsing. Oh, well…potato – basketball. I finally got around to talking about a true southern delicacy that I have had the pleasure to dine upon many times. Yep! You guessed it! The possum! (REMEMBER TOU WERE FOREWARNED) Now, for my more squeamish readers, I won’t go into detail of the process of getting a possum from woods to plate; however, if you want to stop reading now, I will understand. For those of you who are more adventurous, or you just want a good laugh, keep reading.

So I was talking about the rodent gourmet, and a little woman who overheard my conversation asked me if I really had really eaten possum, and where I got it from. I told her that the first few times I had it it had been prepared by some friends of mine. I then told her that I had, on occasion, been fortunate enough to find some pretty fresh ones on the side of the road on my way home. I said that, if you can tell they haven’t been there long, you can clean them and freeze them right away. She was interested in this. Or horrified one. I couldn’t tell.

So, a few weeks go by and this same little woman comes up to me and says that she has something in her car for me, and asked if I could meet her after work. I asked what it was and she just said that it was a surprise. After work I went out to her car and she opened the trunk. She said that she was on her way home yesterday, and the car in front of her hit a possum. She said that she remembered what I had said about getting it before it had laid out too long, so she stopped and got it and put it in her car! She apologized that all she had to put it in was an empty dog food bag, but she put it in her freezer and brought it to me. I had absolutely no idea what to say to this, so I thanked her, gave her a big hug, and took the possum carcass home to bury in my back yard, hoping that she wouldn’t see any more get hit on her way home.

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