https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_hxc6Vnph4E

Jim sat at the counter, with his blue, pin-striped overalls on.  They were immaculate.  In the breast pocket was a ball point pen clipped neatly next to the horizontal spiral atop the bright yellow cover of a now defunct feed company.  His hat was sponsored by a seed corn company now next to the feed company in defunctness.  It’s bright yellow bill and large badge sat ahead of the white mesh that brought up the rear.  All of them laid over the well-groomed, grey hair trimmed only a couple of days ago.

He had got up early to get to the counter and hear the reports of last night’s rain as they came in.  His furrowed hand produced a thumb and middle finger which held the handle of a white porcelain coffee cup.  The index finger tapped the top intermittently, as though he would think of the line of a song and then think of another.  He stared at the line the contents made on the inside of the mug.

It was then he glanced to the side and caught Ted, walking with the knees of a hog farmer up to the counter’s end to pay the bill his breakfast had left.

“Did you get any rain last night, Ted?”

“Oh, we got just a skosh, you know.  The gauge had five inches in it this morning.”

“I had around five and a quarter at my place.”

“Well, the devil always did take care of his own,” said Ted with the same smile Jim returned.

Some would say Jim had told a little lie, but he could argue there had been profit in it, and surely the profit made it excusable.  Jim would say he told no lie at all.  He only suggested he got around five and a quarter.  In truth he had, within a quarter of it.  For Jim it was the its status as a suggested quarter that made it defensible, and it yielded to him the same advantage an actual quarter would have.

The line in the mug dropped lower.  The songs changed several times.  Finally, Jim glanced to the side and caught the bow-legged gait of the mustached horseman called Russ.

“I got around 5 and a quarter,” said Jim, now with some confidence, blinking his eyes as he spoke.  “What’d you get?”

“We got six.”

“You don’t say?”  His confidence deflated, but opportunity seized the moment.  “Is that the most you’ve heard of?”

“I thought I heard them say behind me that the Meadows boy got 7 south of town.”

If the suggested is every bit as good as the actual, having gotten the most rain is every bit as good as having found out who did.  Yes sir, it had been a productive morning in deed, and the tapping began for the rhythm of several happy tunes.  The young waitress walked by, and Jim opted for one more cup.  Waiting for it, he caught sight of the confident walk of a young man who looked but vaguely familiar.

“Did you get much rain last night?”

“Five and a half,” Jim replied, “but the Meadows boy was in this morning and he told me he thought he had over seven.”

“You don’t say?”

“Yep.  That’s what he told me.”

“Well I thought I heard that too,” said the Meadows boy who was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

Now John had sat there, long and tall as ever, taking it all in as the egg yolks got cold in his hash browns.  He too would pass Jim on the way to the register.

“I suppose you got us all beat,” were the words that came from the down turned eyes underneath the yellow bill.

“I suppose I do,” said John.

“How much did you get?”

“We got enough that last night the bar in Bevington was the driest spot in town.”

Yes, Jim thought, it had been a very productive morning, and he laid down a two dollar tip for the gal who had been filling his cup.