Sado: heard that one too.

True story. I was the city slicker from up north. At the time I had never hunted, rarely shot any firearm and had no real interest. Meeting my girlfriend's (now wife) family for the first time in SE Arkansas. It is a family tradition for the men to go duck hunting the day after Thanksgiving. Being a man, I decide I can tag along and see what it is all about. Of course, I have to borrow everything: boots that are too small cloths that don't fit. The morning is cold and raining - perfect weather for a duck. THree of us squeeze into teh single cab toyota tacmoa with teh dog in teh back. We get to the farm and the farmer wants to come too. I get to ride in teh rain with the dog to the "blind". But there was no blind. We are jsut going to decoy the ducks on a ond by sitting in the brush. Did I mention I had borrowed boots not waders. Anyway. I step into teh water and it is 2-inches deeper than the boots are tall. So I am standing on the bank of a pond with boots full of water a jacket that is too small and smelling like wet dog. We "hunt" for a few hours and nobody lifts a gun. We decide to call it a day. I get the privledge of climbing in the back of teh truck for the ride back to teh house with a cold wet dog.

They have never admitted that the whole thing was a test and that I passed. It has to be that or they wnated to show me how well they can shoot. Either way, it was a sad site.