HUNTINGWITHMARIANNAANDAL

Because I scored early in the season this year, I haven't been in the woods as much as usual. I missed the shitty weather, instead making a paycheck down at GNJohn's. But now the weather has broken and with less than a week left in the season people are starting to make the call to hunt with me. This past holiday weekend I guided two hunts. The first was with Al B. and Marianna Louise. I like guiding almost as much as solo hunting. The thrill of putting a bird in front of another's gun is just as rewarding as pulling the trigger myself. I pride myself in knowing where the birds are hanging and in most cases can deliver. But as we all know it's called hunting not killing.
So as the fire crackled the night before we were to go out, ML assured me she would be ready the next morning at 4:45 AM. "I'll be waiting in the driveway." she stated with resolve. I asked her if she had waterproof boots? "Yes!" she said "They have high heels. I think I'll wear this tight little black number with this bra thingy or maybe high rise jeans with a skimpy top. What do you think?" I had been distracted by the fire and didn't realize she was talking about what she wanted to wear at my opening, not hunting. Either way it sounded HOT!
Al B. was a little late arriving the next morning. Maybe he had the same issues dressing. I picked up ML (in the driveway as promised) and we hit the woods. Al's 5'6" of weathered muscle. Marianna's 6 feet of long leg. Both dangled lit cigarettes as we picked our way to the field, where I thought the birds would be waiting. I made a few calls and waited for a gobble. Silence. I called again. Nothing. The sun rose. The song birds twittered. The crows cawed. The geese honked. No turkeys materialized.
As we moved to another spot I could tell ML and Al were disappointed. No more so than I. I take this guiding shit seriously and when I can't find birds i take it personally. How dare they not cooperate in their demise. The weather was perfect- warm with no wind. Al and Marianna lit up and frowned.
In the car between spots, I looked at Marianna's boots. They DID have high heels. All that time on the catwalk had inadvertantly prepared her for gliding over tangled deadfalls and kicking away underbrush with stilletos, while turkey hunting. Al and I both had a hard time keeping up with her. Every spot we tried came up empty. Each time I tried my damndest to fire up a bird, to no avail. Little wisps of tobacco smoke drifted towards the heavens as i scanned the woods for movement. Around 9:00 AM we gave up and went back to camp, where I made coffee and eggs for my "clients". It was the least I could do after being skunkd all morning. Maybe it was me. Next time I'm going to wear a camo thong, buy a pack of smokes, and build up the heels of my boots. See if that changes my luck. In the mean time keep your face powder dry and your gun barrel out of the dirt.