Four short stories and a test

By Gerre Joiner | Published Saturday, October 17, 2015

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Four short stories. Left for the reader to decide who’s who.

I wasn’t one of the sippers at the coffee shop when this happened, but everyone who was there to see this story unfold agreed that this true story is better than fiction.

One of our guys looked out the glass Whataburger door and saw one of his chickens eating dead crickets and french fries in the parking lot. He was astounded. He chased the chicken without help of any kind for a while. Nobody (except for the unlucky owner) wanted to be seen chasing a chicken. Realizing that nobody was going to help him, my friend got into his pickup, drove to his house, got a huge fishing dip net and returned to the scene. Everyone was peering out the windows of the restaurant as the chicken was netted near Starbucks’ front door.

Interested readers want to know:

  • “How did the chicken get to town?”

The answer is this: She made the trip under the hood of my friend’s pickup and looked for a handy place to crawl out. Turns out the handy place was the parking lot of Whataburger.

  • “Why did the chicken cross the road?”

The answer is this: Nobody knows. But she probably won’t do it this way again!

Special sandwich

One of our guys has a familiar routine that includes the following:

  • He orders the same sausage/biscuit sandwich every morning.
  • He dismantles the sandwich so that picante sauce can be carefully placed on the sausage patty.
  • He then reassembles the sandwich and eats it.
  • He then carefully and painstakingly folds the paper in which the sandwich had been wrapped and places it in the little plastic container in which the picante sauce came.
  • He replaces the foil on the picante container in such a way that the casual observer can’t tell there’s paper in the container and not picante sauce.

There are no exceptional days during which my friend does not go through this routine.


One of our regulars has an old Chevy suburban.

Here are some important features regarding the vehicle:

  • The windows are seldom ever rolled up. Always open.
  • The paint has come off in big splotches. All over the vehicle. Down to the metal. Past the primer. Rust abounds.
  • It’s full of stuff. In the seats. Behind the seats. Under the seats! Not any one particular kind of stuff. Just stuff. My friend calls the stuff his “inventory.”


Here’s another story from one of our men:

A building wath being demolithed near downtown Decatur. They found a sthkeleton in the rubble. The sthkeleton turned out to be the remains of the 1929 hide and theek champion for Withe County.


Now, for the test:

The names of the four men whose stories I have told are Wylie Medder, Bert Caraway, Ross Mueller, and Jack Brooks (without his dentures).

To win, one must assign the story to the proper coffee drinker. Send your answers to me at gerjoiner@gmail.com. The winner will be awarded a $10 Whataburger gift card.

Seriously. I will award the prize to whomever emails the correct answers.

Gerre Joiner is a semi-retired church musician and has lived in Decatur since 1999.

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