Rumor had it in the town where I worked that she really liked her dope. She also liked her breast implants (bought and paid for by “the legend”), to a point where she’d gladly show them off… local dirt had it that she’d walk down Main Street and casually lift her shirt and say, “Do YOU like em?” at passersby, though I myself wasn’t ever privy to be an actual witness to that, not even on during one of the craziest encounters this fisherman has ever had.
Nothing like using legal means to hide the illegal, especially when you’re the prior girl of a Boston Red Sox legend, aka “the legend”.
I’m not going to mention any names, because, well, I don’t want to get sued or anything like that but, I’m in Vermont so you could probably figure it out if you want to know bad enough.
So how does this tie into trout fishing? Well, I’m gonna tell ya.
I was just winding down with a pretty good day on the river… one big keeper and many smallies let back. I somewhat tirelessly noted the bright yellow boldly posted “KEEP OUT” signs but knew that I had to cross her meadows to get to the railroad tracks for the fastest way back.
But I also hadn’t counted on pushing through 8-foot high cleverly concealed cannabis plants. To say that I was scared was a bit of an understatement. I had always heard about this crazy dope growing ex-Red Sox babe with inflated bosoms and I soon came to know why. I had just cleared that dope patch when I heard a vehicle engine roaring. Instantly I was in panic mode.
I dove into the high weeds as this engine drew closer. Crouching as low as I could, and barely peeking above and through the weeds, the truck had stopped just 15 yards from me and from their dope patch.
I could see her in the driver seat, stringy hair, tank top, and large boobs. And then, three twenty-something guys in the tail bed getting out to take a closer look!
What I didn’t was the Great Dane… until we were nose to nose. He was massive and he smelled me and my trout and had no problem dancing and jumping through the weeds. And then he growled, growled straight at me.
Lemme just say that there’s nothing like meeting a giant Dane on posted land with illegal dope growers and fake what’s-her-tits goonies… and smelling that nasty dog’s breath. I was so outnumbered.
A million thoughts ran through my head. I had no choice but to shake off weeds and stand up. Dane and three guys ready to pounce. I was on her posted land illegally and I knew it… But I thought, I had found her pot field while innocently fishing. I “legally” had the upper hand… didn’t I? Did she know that? Did she even care?
And so there I was in a standoff with three men, a Great Dane and a crazy dope growing, breast altered, ex-Red Sox player’s lover. But, being outnumbered and all, they clearly had the next play. Let’s just say, diplomacy got me outta that one.