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After some questioning of the bartender and finding that all the people there were similar to Travis, Daria realised it was going to be more difficult than she expected.
Quinn was annoyed at Daria. They hadn’t gotten anywhere. Once outside of the bar again, she asked; “What was that? He didn't tell us anything.”
“I know. These cowboy guys are all alike.”
“Daria, all guys are all alike. The secret is knowing how to ask them.”
“And how am I supposed to ask them?” Daria asked.
“You can't just be all meek and respectful. You have to remember that line about how you catch more flies with money.”
“Excuse me, but if it weren't for your total recklessness, it wouldn't matter that I'm meek, because we wouldn't be in this situation.”
“Don't worry, I may be reckless but I'm also a problem-solver.”
After having changed into the outfit Travis had bought for her, Quinn and Daria re-entered the bar. There was one way to gain their attention, climb up on a table.
“Attention, guys. We're just two little city gals from Lawndale.”
“Lawndale’s a suburb,” one of the men interrupted.
“Right. And we know we shouldn't be here, but some friends of ours got pulled over by the sheriff recently. We brought the bail money to get them out, and now some mean old cowboy's stolen it. Now, I'm not saying all cowboys are mean or old or thieves, but it does make me think twice about ever considering a cowboy for a boyfriend.”
“Well, heck, little lady, I've been pulled over myself. It's humiliating, and bad for the soul. Here's ten bucks,” one of the men said as he put money on the table.
“Doggone it, we're not all bad, little miss. Take 20,” another said.
But a third was suspicious. “Now hold on. How do you know we're not the ones being flimflammed here? You fast-talking suburban gals think you can just march in and con some cowboys? Is that your game?”
“Um, no. Not at all,” Quinn said nervously.
“You think we're a bunch of dumb hicks. What do you know about us?” the suspicious one said.
“I don't call 'em cowboys till I see 'em ride,” Daria said.
“What?”
“Cause a Stetson hat and them fancy boots don't tell me what's inside,” Daria responded.
“Hey, that's Conway Twitty. You like Conway Twitty music?”
“You bet your lonesome prairie campfire I do, partner.”
“All right!” he said as he changed his tune; “Now these are cowgirls. Fellas, step on up here and empty your pockets.”
( They soon arrived back at the Sheriff's office. )
Quinn was annoyed at Daria. They hadn’t gotten anywhere. Once outside of the bar again, she asked; “What was that? He didn't tell us anything.”
“I know. These cowboy guys are all alike.”
“Daria, all guys are all alike. The secret is knowing how to ask them.”
“And how am I supposed to ask them?” Daria asked.
“You can't just be all meek and respectful. You have to remember that line about how you catch more flies with money.”
“Excuse me, but if it weren't for your total recklessness, it wouldn't matter that I'm meek, because we wouldn't be in this situation.”
“Don't worry, I may be reckless but I'm also a problem-solver.”
After having changed into the outfit Travis had bought for her, Quinn and Daria re-entered the bar. There was one way to gain their attention, climb up on a table.
“Attention, guys. We're just two little city gals from Lawndale.”
“Lawndale’s a suburb,” one of the men interrupted.
“Right. And we know we shouldn't be here, but some friends of ours got pulled over by the sheriff recently. We brought the bail money to get them out, and now some mean old cowboy's stolen it. Now, I'm not saying all cowboys are mean or old or thieves, but it does make me think twice about ever considering a cowboy for a boyfriend.”
“Well, heck, little lady, I've been pulled over myself. It's humiliating, and bad for the soul. Here's ten bucks,” one of the men said as he put money on the table.
“Doggone it, we're not all bad, little miss. Take 20,” another said.
But a third was suspicious. “Now hold on. How do you know we're not the ones being flimflammed here? You fast-talking suburban gals think you can just march in and con some cowboys? Is that your game?”
“Um, no. Not at all,” Quinn said nervously.
“You think we're a bunch of dumb hicks. What do you know about us?” the suspicious one said.
“I don't call 'em cowboys till I see 'em ride,” Daria said.
“What?”
“Cause a Stetson hat and them fancy boots don't tell me what's inside,” Daria responded.
“Hey, that's Conway Twitty. You like Conway Twitty music?”
“You bet your lonesome prairie campfire I do, partner.”
“All right!” he said as he changed his tune; “Now these are cowgirls. Fellas, step on up here and empty your pockets.”
( They soon arrived back at the Sheriff's office. )
