If you happen to be on Hwy 32 west of Charleston but before you cross the bridge and see a pile of blue paper towels don;t bother them. I was on my way from Enid to Shelby Friday morning at 305 am and all the sudden I started sweating and the ole stomach doubled me over. I thought real quick and said Webb is only about 10 minutes away and maybe I can make it. I squirmed in my seat trying to get some comfort and just made it worse. I slammed on the brakes and pulled over. Now normally at that time of the morning there would be no traffic on Hwy 32, but this was opening day of duck season and their are 2 big duck lodges about a 1/4 of mile to the east. I jump out of the truck unbuckling my belt with one hand trying to reach in my tool box with other to get the big blue roll of paper towels. My stomach doubled me over again, Oh God I am not going to make it. I go around to the passenger side and open both doors because its a pretty big shoulder and it goes straight down. There I am with pants down and butt hanging in the wind and headlights are coming, not just one set but many. All of the hunters from the lodge are on their way out. I can't stop I am like a deer in the headlights and the first truck pulls up behind me and ask Are you broke down, I reply hell yes and get out of here. About that time i hear his buddy yell Hey man get out of here that dude is sick. I hear them laughing as they pull off.
I manage to get through and get back in my truck and my cell rings with a number I am not familiar with, I answer to find out its the guys that stopped and checked on me. I asked how did you get my number and they said off your truck window. I have Dixie Ducks, guided hunts and crappie guide.
They said I must really know how to find the crap because they had never seen a guy throw up from that end. He said they all had tears in their eyes and made the hunt if they didn't kill a duck they had a story to tell (at my expense)
