Things were very different out here before the train. When I first came out here as a law student, it was on a stagecoach just like this one... In fact, it may have been THIS stagecoach that I came out here on. Yes, as I brush the dust from it, it's starting to look very familiar. I was told many a time that I was a ladies man, and indeed on the fateful night there was a lady sitting next to me in the coach. Perhaps I'd have a better feel for whether I've been in this stagecoach before if one of you fine gentleman, for the sake of accuracy, pretended to be a lady and sat next to me in the coach.
Yes. I say, that's a great idea. You'll do, young man. You wanted the story, after all. Don't mind the cobwebs. I say, climb in.
As he gazed menacingly at my prone body, he said he was going to teach me law. Western law. I told him I already knew it. He asked if I knew tax law. I was embarassed to say that I had yet to read about it. I asked if he knew tax law. He told me he knew enough to give me a lesson or two.
And there I was. Face to face with the woman that the toughest man south of the picketwire intended to marry. She wasn't exaggerating when she said I "pop up" every time a woman talked to me. Indeed, the popping I was doing extended beyond the average call of duty for a gentelman.
I was slightly bemused to find that she couldn't read. Indeed, I was no longer in Kansas anymore, or at least not in the cocoon of academia that had served as my Kansas. I dream of a world where literacy rates are decent, the written word is respected, and people who can't interpret the written word are considered outcasts. If I had my way, I wouldn't touch a woman who couldn't read. But if I stuck to my guns here, I'd find myself dealing with slim pickings. Mighty slim. Begrudgingly, I told her I would teach her to read and write.
On a positive note, I can already imagine what kind of extra credit assignments I'll be giving her.
Have you, in your adult life, dated someone born and raised in the same culture as you who couldn't read or write? Would you be willing to?I don't eat steak off the floor either. I don't know why he feels the need to brag about it.
