Why Horses Wednesday: Gilt Gams

This episode of Why Horses? Wednesday is sponsored by grateful significant others everywhere.

I am at the barn so much that I become invisible to the non-riders, the way the aisle-way muck bucket becomes invisible: it fades into the background: always there, occasionally out of sight, but nothing to bother thinking about.

Hang on.

Did I really just compare myself to a bucket of poop?  Great.  There goes the Pulitzer.

Let’s just move along.

So there I am, invisibly walking around doing my invisible barn chores, invisibly overhearing a conversation between two male spouses at the rail: one whose wife was finishing a lesson, and one whose wife was warming up for a lesson.

Guy #1:  That your wife? (nods sideways)

Guy #2: (proudly) Yeah.  She’s taking lessons.

Guy #1: That’s mine on the orange horse.  (Dead giveaway: not a horse person.  Only a non-horsey spouse would call his wife’s horse “orange”.)

Long, ordinary, guy-pause.

Guy#1: Have you looked around?  I mean at all these women?

Guy #2: (Clearly hesitant to answer…unsure where this is going.)  Yeah?

Guy #1: Go out to the mall or something, and you see all types of women, right?  Go to a barn or a horse show, and all the women have great legs.  Every single one.  You ever notice that?

Guy #2: Uh…no.  But…(looks around)…I see what you mean.    (More thorough checking out.) They do, huh.

Guy #1: Wonder why women with great legs like horses, and not say, women with {editorial substitution} other qualities?

Guy #2: You got a point.

Guy#1: Yeah.  It’s not about their size either.

Now they are both leaning backwards on the rail, wives lessons forgotten, checking out the Saturday morning rush of  Women with Great Legs.  It’s all I can do not to fall into some sort of epileptic fit of laughter and helplessly roll around the aisle smacking my head on the rubber mat.  I have to stuff myself quickly into the nearest tack room and grab a broom, sweeping furiously, so the dust can account for the odd choking and snorting noises.

Jane, I say sternly to myself, SHUT UP – think of your own not-thinking moments! (These are really nice guys.  I just happened to be invisible at a doofus moment.)

Clearly, neither of these spouses have ridden.  Maybe they sat on a horse, or walked around a little, but no actual riding.    If they had, they’d know why barns are populated solely by women with GREAT legs.

This is my “Why Horses?” answer for this Wednesday: thanks to industrial strength riding workouts, I look smashing in stockings and heels.

Move over Ginger Rogers, Janet Jackson, and Dancing With the Stars.

Why horses?  Because of the legs, baby!

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15 thoughts on “Why Horses Wednesday: Gilt Gams

  1. Jen

    Oh wow, hilarious!! That could have been my husband until he took dressage lessons. He gained a whole appreciation for what real riding takes! I love your stories!

    Reply
  2. Marissa

    Hahahahahaha. Ohhhh man that is funny. Yes, women with great legs are inately drawn toward horses, that is the only logical conclusion. Gotta love guy logic. Or, lack thereof.

    Reply
    1. theliteraryhorse Post author

      I have to say, it cracked me up for HOURS. I’m going to have to change the whole fiction thing under the “about” tab. So far there isn’t any. I was assuming that’s where I would go when I started the blog, but life has once again proved itself funnier than fiction. 🙂

      Reply
  3. Jon

    You know, that’s true, all the girls at MY barn have great legs . . . all four of them (legs, that is). Of course now that I think about it, all the boys have great legs, too . . . hmmm, all their feet are great, too. Fetish?

    Reply
  4. Michelle

    I love this! Classic guy moment, glad you were there so you could share it with us. Good job at not blowing your cover either – I don’t think rolling around the aisle floor laughing would be conducive to overhearing future doofus guy conversations!!

    Reply
    1. theliteraryhorse Post author

      Yeah. It’s good I didn’t blow my cover for a number of reasons: potential future moments, and well, I’m a doofus too. Remember the whole Daisy is my sister but I don’t know her last name thing?

      But that was a classic guy moment. 🙂 And it did provide me with a wonderful day. They performed a lovely public service. Even if they didn’t know it!

      Reply
  5. AareneX

    >snork<
    ORANGE horse?!!

    Jane, dear, you can retrieve your Pulitzer.

    "…the way the aisle-way *wheelbarrow* becomes invisible…"

    with one magic word, you've changed the comparison to imply that you are sturdy, reliable, and indispensible as well as invisible.

    Meantime, just keep looking at the legs!

    Reply
  6. greyhorsematters

    Great overheard conversation. Now you know what it’s like to be a fly on the wall! Orange horse huh? Someone should point out to them next time that great legs only come with lots of hard work for their viewing enjoyment. Very funny post.

    Reply

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