Terri liked fishing. She didn't care if it was considered a man's sport, she liked it anyway. She knew other women who liked it as well, so she knew she wasn't alone. That's why when her husband, Andrew, suggested a camping and fishing trip, she was quite happy to go along.
They went on a long weekend, driving up to the camping ground on the Thursday afternoon and setting up their camp within easy walking distance of the river. Friday morning saw them both out in the river, casting flies for trout.
During the course of the day Terri pulled in a couple of nice rainbows. She would have had a third but the inconsiderate jerk standing just up river from her dropped his fly right next to hers. As luck would have it the best fish of the day took his fly, leaving hers to drift downstream. Still and all, she had a happy and successful day.
After dinner Terri found that Andrew had arranged to meet with some of the other campers for some beer and some general talk. While welcome to come along, Terri declined. There were some occasions when women were more of a drag to an event than an enhancement. Men drinking beer and talking sport was one of those occasions.
Andrew grabbed some beer from their car and strolled off to join up with the other campers. Terri, for her part, grabbed a can of coke and strolled down to the river, found a comfortable place to sit and relax, and lounged back, taking it easy and watching the river flow by.
"Tomorrow," she observed, as a large trout leapt from the water after a fly, "you are mine."
Lying back, half drowsing, Terri was startled when someone spoke to her.
"Taking it easy after a hard day of trying to pinch other people's fish?" rumbled a deep voice.
Opening her eyes Terri glared up at the looming figure next to her. The fish thief. She'd know him anywhere.
"Unlike some, I spot my own fish and cast to catch them," she retorted.
A laugh was his initial answer.
"I don't know why you're upset. The trout just knew which of us had the tastier fly. He was only a little one, anyway. Barely twenty pounds."
Twenty pounds? Terri didn't know whether to cry or scream. Her biggest catch ever had only been fifteen and this jerk dismissed twenty pounds as a little fish.
"I know what you mean," she said with a sigh. "Hardly worth the trouble. Still, I could have used him as bait for something decent."
She saw a flash of teeth in the night and knew that at least she'd amused him. He had her at a disadvantage. She had the moon shining on her but he was substantially in shadow.
"You look a lot smaller without those godawful waders," came the casual observation. "Not that you didn't look awfully pretty even with the waders on. Prettier now, though."
Well, she certainly hoped so. Those waders made you look like a blimp, even if they did keep you dry. Now, however, she was dressed in shorts and a short-sleeved top. Definitely an improvement.
