"You seem kinda low this morning, Sweetie," Marjorie said.
"Business has been kinda slow for a while now, and it's wedding season," he said.
Marvin Pincus' "business" of course, is free love counseling combined with free fly tying, in hopes of bringing connubial jocularity to anyone who might need it. Hey, a retired guy has to do something.
But just at that moment there was a knock on the door, and standing there was Three-Chord Cortez. T.C. looked anxiously up and down the street. It wouldn't look good for the fabled bunkhouse balladeer to be seen applying for love counseling.
Marvin took T.C. into his den and Marjorie brought the embarrassed cowhand some coffee. When the door had been safely closed, Cortez looked at Marvin.
"Mr. Pincus," he said, "you may not know it, but I kinda have a reputation for being a ladies' man," Marvin nodded. "But ... I guess I do okay ... but sometimes I just feel ... used ... you know?"
Marvin nodded again.
"These women today just seem to have ..." he looked around and whispered, "one thing on their minds. I'd like to find a woman who likes me for who I am ... inside, you know?"
"I mean, I can serenade their socks off and have plenty of dates, but it's just a hot Saturday night kinda life."
Marvin smiled. "T.C., I know what you mean. I've heard about your success serenading the girls, but I can see you may be ready to ... shall we say ... settle down?"
Three-Chord (named for his semi-skill at guitar picking) nodded.
"OK, so let's get to work."
Marvin put a big number two salmon streamer hook in the fly vise, and Cortez stood and watched him.
Marvin's skilled hands soon tied a weighted solid-black stonefly nymph and handed it to T.C.
"Substantial and solid," Marvin said, "without all the gaudiness of a salmon streamer. It will bring out the real you, T.C."
"Thank you, sir," Cortez said.
"And T.C.? I want you to not even kiss a girl until after the third date. Let her get to know you."
The long-riding lothario's mouth dropped open, showing the pearly white teeth that had melted so many hearts.
"Is that even possible, Mr. Pincus?"
"Work on it, my boy. Work on it."
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