Trick

I met Dusti in high school at West Charlotte. She had a bit of an edge and at times she utilized rather "bold" language, so I must admit I kept my distance at first. But then we got paired together in gym class as bowling partners (of all god forsaken things- I think it was something like a 3 week bowling unit). We got to talking about all manners of meaningful things, and I found out she liked to come up to the mountains and do ceremonies like getting naked and sweating it out while praying with a bunch of women in a pitch black domb that had hot rocks and steam. That pretty much did it for me- Dusti had won me over. I journeyed to the mountains with her for one of these ceremonial weekends and it changed my life, opening me up to ways of spirituality that were earth based and right up my urban little teenage alley.
Dusti was more of a country girl than I probably ever will aspire to be. You know that kind of girl who is most natural on a horse in the woods? Yeah, you know the kind. Dusti and her sister Brandy were like that. Their dad has a farm out in Marshville, home of Randy Travis, that is a tomb-boy's paradise- woods and water and wildlife and horses. Her dad was rad. He stayed out there in a cabin and was real chill and nice and played blues on his guitar. Dusti's beloved horse was called Whiskey.
On a few special occasions, I got to go out and spend the weekend out at the farm with Dusti. We would sleep in the woods and have a fire and ride horses and listen to her dad play the blues.
This one occasion I am thinking about, Dusti invited a group of friends from school to come out to the farm for the weekend. I don't remember how many came, maybe 6 or so. When we got out there, we decided we would all go for an evening horseback ride. We rode double and bareback through the terrain of the farm. It was lovely, except the person who rode with me ( a guy who I will spare embarrassment by using the psuedonym "Frank") was a scaredy cat (not the word Dusti used to describe him) on the horse and caused our horse to be spooked and jumpy the whole time. It kind of sucked, and because of that and other annoying things he did that day, we decided that the typical ragging on him wasn't enough. He was on our nerves and we needed to get it out.
That night we stayed in Dusti's dad's cabin. Maybe it was raining or something. We were all getting ready for bed, and one of us came up with a prank that we felt would suffice to get "Frank" back for his annoyingness. We replaced the toothpaste in the bathroom with a tube of Gynolotromin (female anti-fungal ointment of some sort), and turned the tube upside down so you couldn't really tell what it was at a glance. We removed the toothpaste from the bathroom and put some toothbrushes next to the female ointment. Then we told "Frank" that it was his turn to wash up. Us gals gathered around the closed bathroom door and laughed until we turned blue when we heard "Frank" in there cussing and spitting the stuff out. He came out and swore up and down he didn't actually fall for the trick, but we knew better.
I think he tried to get us back by putting ice in our sleeping bags, but we knew we had the "V" for victory on that one.

PS Stayed tuned tonight or tomorrow for a report on the most fantastic work party last weekend!