He winced.
“That bad?”
I nodded.
“How did you end up in Texas?” he asked.
“I didn’t end up here, I lived here until I was eleven, and as soon as they stopped dragging me all over the country, I came right back,” I said.
“Good call, no reason to leave,” he said.
I laughed.
"That big a fan of Texas?" I asked.
"Well, what's not to like? I wouldn't want to live anywhere else, that's for sure," he said.
"Yeah, I have to admit, I am with you," I said, "I came back as soon as I could, went to college at A&T."
"What did you major in to become a U-S-D-A inspector?" he asked, drawing the letters out.
I did roll my eyes this time.
"I love my job," I said, tartly.
"I'm sure you do," he said, taking another swig of his beer and not looking me in the eyes.
"I majored in Agriculture," I said.
“Oh, are you going to tell me how to run my ranch?” he asked.
I raised my eyebrows and put my margarita down hard, almost splashing it on the table.
“Look, I do like you, Clint, you seem like a nice guy, but you can’t keep pulling that,” I said.
He looked at me and said nothing.
“I love my job, and I enjoyed getting my degree, and I haven’t said the first thing about what you could change on your ranch to be more modern,” I continued, “I don’t think that new is always good, and your way is obviously working for you, just stop being so damn defensive.”
He looked a little sheepish.
"I'll get off your back," he said.
"You'd better," I warned him.
We both were silent for a minute. The bustle of the busy restaurant around us provided a welcome distraction.
I really liked Clint, but if he was going to keep fussing at me for my job, I didn't know how much time I could spend around him.
"How did you get your job?" he asked.
I looked at him, wary.
"Are you going to make jokes?" I asked.
"No," he said, and uncrossed his arms. "I'm trying not to be defensive. You like your job, how did you get it?"
I smiled at him.