I don't understand you city fellas. Ya'll seem to think we Westerners are a bunch of backward bumpkins. Hell, we have the Internet. That's how you contacted me, for crying out loud. I also don't understand why you think you need "support groups." Maybe that's because we are a lot more self-sufficient. When your nearest neighbor is five miles away, you have to be able to take care of yourself.
It's a mystery to me that you knew I was coming to your city. I don't doubt one of you has been in my neck of the woods at some time or another. I'm here to drum up some business. Since I only have a couple more days before I head back home, I've been invited to this evening meeting immediately instead of having to attend a bunch of your orientations first. I greatly appreciate that.
"Hi, my name is Zeke, and I'm a cuckold"
"Hi, Zeke."
My wife and I have a dude ranch that caters to city people who want to experience the so-called Old West. What we do bears no resemblance to the real Old West. The guests think they are getting the real thing, and we don't tell them differently. It would be bad for business. They want to go horseback riding and calf roping and branding. The vast majority have never seen a horse, let alone a calf. We start with the most basic of basics. Half of them shake in their boots when they see their first mare. The first two days are spent on learning to ride a horse. Then comes roping lessons. There is a right way and a wrong way to hold and throw a lasso. There is always one guest who thinks he's smarter than his instructor. He can't figure out why his horse throws him or why his way of throwing a rope doesn't work. He calls us stupid and demands his money back. He's got his big-name city lawyers who are going to take everything we own, et cetera, et cetera. I've been in business for thirty years and haven't been sued yet.