Chet The Dog

Posts Tagged ‘Dry Gulch’

Puts And Calls And Us

Bernie’s still sleeping. Late night at the Dry Gulch Steakhouse and Saloon, pretty much our go-to place for kicking back. Can’t miss it with that huge wooden cowboy out front. And the sight of that wooden cowboy all of a sudden, meaning I knew where I was! What a moment. But that’s in The Dog Who Knew Too Much. Last night was more normal. A dude in a checked jacket was talking about the economy, whatever that is. Turns out the price of copper – one of the easiest smells there is, some humans can even pick it up – is a real good indicator of what’s going to happen with the economy. And guess what. There’s such a thing as copper futures. Then came a bit of a surprise: the checked-jacket dude knew how to hook us up with some copper futures. Did Bernie reach for the check book? Yes. Lots of times he ends up patting his pockets and realizing he left the check book at home.

But not last night.

Welcome Lady, Bandit, Spanna, Molly.

Friend of the Month coming soon!

The Morning After

Hmm. I’ve seen Bernie in worse shape than this, but not often. The good news is we won some money last night. I even saw it for a while. The bad news is how much got spent. It was probably nice of Bernie to buy a round for everyone at the Dry Gulch, but wouldn’t one have been enough? And then there was that little dude with an idea for a start-up for out-Madoffing the Madoffs of the world, whatever that might mean. Did some kind of paper get signed? I don’t want to think about it.

Great Super Bowl party down there! And thanks, Melanie,  for the flea-flicker diagram.

The Fun Party

Ray read what Bernie had written on the cocktail napkin. Then, kind of mumbly, he said, “I want you to come with me.”

Bernie glanced at Ray’s chest where the wire was concealed behind his shirt. “Didn’t quite hear you,” he said. “Can you speak up a bit?” Bernie had a look on his face like he was having fun. Was this a time for that? Not that I’m against fun. I’m for it, big-time. Once we had an election for mayor of the Valley, and a dude we knew ran on the Fun Party ticket. He got Bernie’s vote, and maybe one or two more.

Ray spoke louder. “I want you to come with me.”

“Yeah?” said Bernie. “Where?”

“My dad wants to see you.”

“I figured that,” said Bernie. “But where?”

Ray glanced around the bar. We were at Dry Gulch, in case I forgot to point that out. He looked scared. “Maybe better if I just guide you to the place.”

“Better for who?” said Bernie.

So Close To Steak Tips

So there we were at the Dry Gulch, me, Bernie and Ray. Colonel Bob was supposed to meet us but where was he? Also Ray was wearing a wire. How come? Those were two problems. There were probably more but I don’t go past two. Once we were at a party down at the college – love college kids! the fun they have! who wouldn’t want to go to college and stay forever? – and this math professor had too much to drink. All of a sudden he started crying. “What if nothing important is quantifiable?” he said. Bernie patted him on the back and called a cab.

But right now he was putting his finger across his lips, human sign language for zip it. Then he reached for a cocktail napkin,wrote something on it and held it so Ray could see. Ray nodded, a little nod. He was real scared. I could smell it. I could also smell steak tips just about done in the kitchen, but this probably wasn’t the time.