I’m Fixing to Go Crawling Back

(Editor’s Note: Ted Dunagan is taking a break from writing his column. For the next few weeks, The Monticello News will feature some columns that ran previously.)

I’m fixing to go crawling back.

Not too long after I got my first job there was an incident, after which I was told they didn’t want me around any more.

They had done me wrong. After all my dedicated and superior service, they had promoted that pitiful excuse of a salesman, Leon Ledbetter, to the position of general sales manager, and left me in the same old peon position.

You know how embarrassing that was, especially after I had told my momma and everybody that I had the job in the bag?

Mr. Sizemore, the owner, made the announcement at our annual pig party. The meat was falling off the bone and everybody was dragging pulled pork through sauce, and piling their plates high with coleslaw, baked beans and pound cake.

As he was approaching the podium I noticed he had some barbecue sauce stains on his red tie, but they kind of blended in and you couldn’t see them unless you were up real close.

He wore a seersucker suit and greatly reminded me of Boss Hawg from that TV show.

I glanced over toward momma and everybody, waved at her with confidence, and proudly pulled my date, Atta Leigh Atwater, closer to me in anticipation of sharing the proud moment with her.

Mr. Sizemore’s words were like what a nut cracker is to a pecan, what a fly swat is to a fly, what a windshield is to a bug, and what Roundup is to a weed.

They crushed me, flattened me and just about killed me.

Things got a little fuzzy after that. And since then a lot of folks have reminded me that the big pot of barbecue sauce was for the pig, and not for the crowd. Also, that there were some people who didn’t get to eat before all of the food ended up on the ground.

It’s been a while now and momma and everybody are talking to me again, but not Atta Leigh Atwater. She ran off with Leon Ledbetter to celebrate his new promotion.

I went out looking for a new job, but the story had gotten around and none of our competitors would even take my phone calls.

But there’s some good news. Mr. Sizemore of the Sizemore Siding Corporation sent word that he admires my spunk and wants me to come see him.

So I suppose I’m fixing to just go crawling back.