Tarzan's Tripes Forever, and Other Feghoots

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Riding Shotgun

Category: Rated G, Shaggy Dogs, Shaggydog listserv

This was posted by Bruce NoLastName to the Shaggydog listserv.


In the early 1800s, an old Jewish merchant had to go to Omaha on business. He presented himself to the stagecoach office and asked, “How much ah teeket to Omaha?”

The clerk responded, “$5.00.”

“Too much!” he complained. “Anyvay, I ain’t got $5.00; I only got $2.00, so dere!”

“Well you ain’t goin ta Omaha for $2.00, so forget it!” said the clerk.

“Liss’n, I got ta get ta Omaha; I got vely imput’n biness dere. Pliss! Maybe you could do sumtink for me?”

“I’ll tell you what I can do.” said the clerk. “We need somebody to ride shotgun. Gimme the $2.00 and you could ride shotgun.”

“Vutaya talkin’ ride shotgun? I need ta ride on da stegecoych to Omaha!” said the old man.

“No, No! You don’t understand!” said the clerk. “You ride up on the top with the driver. You hold this rifle and if you see any Indians, you shoot ’em.”

“Vut you talkin’ shoot Indians? I ain’t never shot no Indians.” replied the merchant.

“Listen to me! It’s easy. You see an Indian; you point the gun at him and pull this trigger. Just give me the $2.00 and get up there with the driver.” demanded the clerk.

So the old merchant climbed up with the driver and off they rode into the prairie. About 3 hours into the trip, the driver asked, “Ya see any Injuns?”

“Yep, I see vone.” said the old Jewish merchant.

“How far away is he?” asked the driver.

“How could I know dis?” asked the old guy.

“Well how big does he look?” asked the driver.

The old Jewish guy put his hand in front of the driver’s face and held his thumb and forefinger about a half inch apart, and said, “He looks dis big; should I shoot ’em?”

“Not yet,” said the driver. “You’ll never hit him; he’s too far away. Wait ’til he gets closer.”

Another couple of hours passed and once again the driver asked, “Do ya still see the Injun?” “Yep, I still see ’em.”

“How far away is he now?” asked the driver.

Again the old Jewish guy put his hand in front of the driver’s face and this time held his thumb and forefinger about an inch apart, and said, “He looks dis big; should I shoot ’em yet?”

“Not yet,” said the driver. “He’s still too far away. Wait until he gets closer. I’ll tell you when to shoot ’em.”

Well, this same litany continued every few hours for several days. Each time, the Old Jewish merchant would hold his fingers a little further apart, and then his hands apart, a little further each time, to indicate how big the Indian looked, and each time he’d ask, “Should I shoot ’em?’ and each time, the driver would say, “Not yet, I’ll tell you when.”

On the third day of their journey through the prairie on their way to Omaha, when asked if he still saw the Indian, the old guy demonstrated the size of the Indian by spreading his arms as far as he could from top to bottom, indicating that the Indian now looked very big. The driver said, “Okay, Now he’s close enough. Now you can shoot ’em!”

The old man hesitated and then said, “Nah ………. I couldn’ shoot ’em.”

“Whadya mean you cain’t shoot ’em? Why not?” demanded the driver.

The old Jewish guy put his hand in front of the driver’s face and held his thumb and forefinger about a half inch apart, and said, “How could I shoot ’em?….I’ve known him since he was dis big!”

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