{"sf1_id":549624,"sf2_id":"214E2Nwe","title":"New Horse In Town: Bound For Colorado, cont'd","author":"Claymore","words":1058,"posted_at":"2013-06-11T04:00:00.000Z","tags":["Clean","Clydesdale","M/M","Stallion","anthro/human"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/549624-new-horse-in-town-bound-for-colorado-cont-d","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/214E2Nwe","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/7b/c7/7bc77f37-8968-4903-9345-157f1988a310","description":"A brief stop on the road out of town.","content":"NEW HORSE IN TOWN: \u0026nbsp;\n\nBound For Colorado, continued\n\n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp;The lush hills of Pennsylvania blended smoothly, almost imperceptibly into those of West Virginia as Claymore began his trip that Friday morning. \u0026nbsp; It had dawned a perfect late spring day, and the old horse had gotten under way without stopping first for breakfast, or even \u0026nbsp;coffee. \u0026nbsp;For a stallion who wasn't used to traveling, Clay seemed to be enthusiastically beginning his road trip. \u0026nbsp;Of course, the broken CD player in his old truck meant he was forced to listen to local radio tunes while driving; even though they leaned heavily toward the country end of the musical spectrum, this was only a minor drawback. \u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp; By mid-morning, the stallion's belly had begun growling and got Clay started scanning the highway for a place to stop. \u0026nbsp; Spotting a \"Lock 'n Load Roadhouse\" ahead on the right, he turned into the crowded parking lot and found a spot around the side of the building. \u0026nbsp;Looked like there was a crowded diner inside, and those truckers probably knew a good place for biscuits and gravy.\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp; Half expecting Shirley to bellow her signature welcome as he stepped inside the truck stop, Clay was met with a startled hush instead. \u0026nbsp;\"We don't let ANIMALS in here,\" someone at last yelled out from the back of the room. \u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp;\"What the hell are YOU doin' in here then?\" Clay yelled back, not quite thinking first. \u0026nbsp;In retrospect, he realized that taunting a room full of redneck truckdrivers might not have been the brightest thing he could have done that morning, but the room erupted into laughter. \u0026nbsp;\"Shut you down, didn't he, George!\" someone else yelled from the counter, and the room's buzz turned back to friendly chatter again. \u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Don't mind them, mister,\" a young redheaded waitress said, approaching Clay with a menu. \u0026nbsp;\"Counter seat okay, or do you need a booth?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Counter's fine, miss, thanks, but I won't need a menu. \u0026nbsp;Biggest cup of coffee you got, please, and if you have a biscuits and gravy special?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp; \"One '18 Wheeler' it is, 5 biscuits, 4 eggs, 4 sausage patties, and grits for $9.95, hon. \u0026nbsp;Now, \u0026nbsp;how do you like your eggs? \u0026nbsp;And NO, I'm not askin' whether you want 'em cooked!\"\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp; Grunting slightly as he settled on the stool, Clay didn't have to think long at all about the answer. \u0026nbsp;\"Over easy's fine, miss... .\"\n\n\u0026nbsp; \"It's Tiffany, hon, and I'll get that order as soon as it's up. \u0026nbsp;Let me know if you need anything else.\" \u0026nbsp;Pouring his coffee in a practiced, seemingly effortless motion, she smiled in a way that was both sincere and too cute to stiff on a tip after the meal. \u0026nbsp;She then moved on to serve another customer, stepping away as fluidly as the coffee she'd just poured for Clay.\n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Don't go gettin' any ideas, pardner!\" \u0026nbsp;A large, rough-looking human on the stallion's left advised in a gruff voice. \u0026nbsp;He was, however, smiling as he continued, \"She's taken, just thought I'd save ya trouble of hitting on her!\" \u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Ah, well, thanks, bud. \u0026nbsp;I'm probably old enough to be her pappy, and,\" Clay rubbed his muzzle stubble as he aprised his dining companion. \u0026nbsp;\"You know, the missus would not approve anyhow.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Boy, ain't that the truth,\" the big man laughed, his plaid-covered belly shaking. \u0026nbsp; He nodded, noticing that Clay wore no ring on his left hand but quickly turned back to his breakfast and his newspaper. \u0026nbsp;Which, Clay thought, was just as well. \u0026nbsp;Judging from the man's reading material, he was unlikely to have anything to talk about beyond ballgame scores.\n\n\u0026nbsp; \"You're a married ...uh, 'man' there, buddy?\" a quiet voice on Clay's right side inquired. \u0026nbsp;It belonged to an older, bearded man having coffee and a slice of pie, and the tone of voice was one very familiar to the old Clydesdale.\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Yes sir, \u0026nbsp;22 years now. \u0026nbsp;You seem surprised!\" \u0026nbsp;Clay lied, though his slight smile was sincere enough. \u0026nbsp;He figured the human was merely curious but, as usual, Clay was playing close to the vest. \u0026nbsp; Telling folks he was married was close enough to the truth, and often set them at ease or prevented further prying, depending on the situation.\n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Well, I figured you'd have enough 'horse sense' not to get hitched, I suppose\" the man continued with a chuckle. \u0026nbsp;\"I've seen you, what are you guys called? \u0026nbsp;'Anthros,' I think? \u0026nbsp;I've seen you around, I just never, you know, had a chance to chat with them.\"\n\n\u0026nbsp; \u0026nbsp; \"Nah, no worries, man, prob'ly more like you than you suspect. \u0026nbsp;I mean, except for the tail, and the hooves, and the fact that I sleep in a stall filled with straw out in a barn... \u0026nbsp;.\" \u0026nbsp;Clay smirked slightly as the man's eyes widened in surprise. \u0026nbsp;\"Nah, I'm teasin' ya. \u0026nbsp;I sleep in a bed!\" \u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp; The brief small talk was interrupted by Tiffany's return with a massive white platter. \u0026nbsp;\"Here ya go, hon, you need some salsa or hot sauce?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Yes, both thanks,\" Clay nodded, his eyes now widening a bit. \u0026nbsp;The breakfast he'd ordered was big, even for him.\n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Here's the hot sauce,\" Tiffany chirped, pulling a bottle from her apron pocket. \u0026nbsp;\"I'll be right back with some salsa and fresh coffee. \u0026nbsp;Enjoy!\"\n\n\u0026nbsp; Clay began dousing his food with the vinegary pepper sauce, adding a bit of black pepper as well. \u0026nbsp;The pungent tang of the sauce on the hot gravy perked his hunger, and he began shoveling food into his muzzle without waiting for the salsa. \u0026nbsp;And no wonder. \u0026nbsp;He'd already been driving nearly five hours on an empty belly. \u0026nbsp; The miles had simply disappeared under Clay's little pickup truck, and he'd lost track of time. \u0026nbsp; The journey to Colorado was beginning to feel more like a road trip, and less like an escape.\n\n\u0026nbsp; Tiffany came back with a bowl of salsa and topped off Clay's coffee before dropping a check on the counter. \u0026nbsp;\"You take your time with breakfast, I'll just leave that for when you're ready.\" \u0026nbsp;Clay nodded, his muzzle too full to make a spoken response. \u0026nbsp;Being a Clydesdale with priorities, homemade biscuits were always more important than conversation. \u0026nbsp;\n\n  \n  \n\n"}