Arizonian Pride

Arizonian Pride Chapter 1

"DOGGONE IT! That's the thirteenth one today!”

Randy McClarence snarled as he opened his laptop. Another notification. So much for a peaceful and quiet afternoon that a person of his age can spend forever enjoying.

The countryman sighed as he clicked on his inbox. Same old topic. Same old request. Can't these guys take a 'no' for an answer and leave him in peace?

"...... upcoming annual family holiday... a month long... act as our host of the place……" Randy muttered as he reads from the email. Irritation built up in his mind. Who ARE these people - these "Whitercolls" - to just drop by at his ranch (sweet ranch) and stay there for as long as they like?

Randy scowled and looked around. Home sweet home. Ranch sweet ranch. A small, private place in the middle of the Arizonian desert just for him and him only. Visitors are rare, and usually not welcomed. No one shall just invade his privacy and disturb his peace just like that. He hated having to tolerate or entertain others around his property.

He sighed. He's not one to have the patience to tolerate a whole chain of emails from the same sender either. Randy clicked the "compose" button on his account, and quickly typed out a reply; brief and to-the-point. He pressed "send.”

Only ten minutes passed when he received another - and the final - email from the family. Randy took a look at it.

"Five hundred bucks incentive?!" Randy huffed. What a way to persuade him to say yes! He smiled. Heck, there's more than enough money in his pension AND personal savings combined to last him for the remaining few years or so of his simple life.

Randy thought for a while. These respondents aren't going to give up so easily. He could tell that they are going to send him letter after letter until he approves of their vacation plan at his ranch. He decided he'd rather be buried with tons of unused cash, with no immediate heir to inherit them, than to be bugged by anymore annoying emails. Disgruntled, the ranchman reluctantly agreed to the request.

"...... on condition that you allow me to carry out my daily ranch activities with minimal interruption. The cleanliness of both the interior and surrounding area of the ranch shall also be observed. Lastly, I, as the host, will not be held responsible for any injuries or accidents that may occur during your stay at the ranch. Therefore, every member of your family shall exercise great caution when carrying out your holiday activities.

I look forward to ensuring that you and your family have a great time at my ranch. Thank you.”

Randy may be seventy years old, but he hasn't forgotten how to write a formal letter from years (and years) of working at a locally-founded club (as well as how to fake formal pleasantry).

Sincerely,

Randy McClarence.

He signed off with tired, wrinkly fingers and pressed the send button. Then he turned off his laptop, unplugged from the internet, and enjoyed what remaining of a quiet afternoon he had.

Now, dear reader(s), before you decide that this Randy person is the unfriendliest old man you are going to read more about, let me remind you that usually the coldest (and loneliest) of hearts can turn out to be the warmest and kindest ones when they open up to things and people that they care about. Just wait and see!