Overheard at the Coffee Shop
Every morning, three farmers met at the same corner table in the same coffee shop.
Hank raised beef cattle.
Roy grew corn.
And Lester came from a lifelong Iowa pig-farming family.
Their farms had been passed down through generations, along with equipment, habits, opinions, and the firm belief that nobody else truly understood farming quite like they did.
After each man finished reading the latest farm statistics in the newspaper, they passed it around the table. Then they sat quietly for a moment, stirring their coffee while pondering the possible outcomes of what they had read.
Lester finally mumbled,
“I need ta find me a good woman.”
The others, including the waitress, chuckled and ignored his sighs and complaints. They had heard the same thing many times before.
To this day, Lester just couldn’t find anybody!
That morning, Hank took a long drink of coffee, looked across the table at Lester, and said,
“You know, you’re the lucky one.”
Ting!
Lester’s spoon struck the side of his cup.
He slowly lowered his mug.
“The lucky one?”
Roy nodded.
“Absolutely.”
Lester looked from one man to the other.
“Why? You’re both married, and I can’t get anybody!”
Hank leaned back in his chair.
“Because you’ve got numbers on your side.”
Lester scratched the side of his head.
“Numbers on my side? I can’t even get one woman to agree to supper.”
“Pigs!” Roy answered.
Lester frowned.
“Well, I would hope so. I’m the one who raises pigs. Perhaps that’s why I’m single?”
Hank shook his head.
“No, we mean statewide.”
Lester continued staring at them.
“I have LOOKED and searched statewide, and I still can’t find ONE darn woman to spend my life with!”
Roy tried again.
“You spend every day surrounded by one of the largest populations in Iowa.”
Lester looked suspiciously at both men.
“What are you two trying to sell me?”
“Nothing,” Roy answered.
“That already sounds suspicious,” Lester mumbled.
Hank leaned across the table, chuckling.
“I know why he can’t find anybody. It’s because he’s always in the barn, hanging out with the wrong crowd!”
The coffee shop burst into a loud roar.
“Have I got an excuse for you!” Hank continued. “Truth is, you’re outnumbered!”
The whole place laughed so hard that some people were even shedding tears.
“Outnumbered?” Lester asked, lifting his lip and scrunching his nose.
“Yeah! You know… pigs… people…”
Lester looked at Hank with great confusion.
Hank made a rolling motion with his hand.
“You know… how there are more pigs in Iowa than there are residents. Get it?”
Lester stared at him questioningly.
Seriously, too.
Then he looked at Roy.
Then back at Hank.
Then at the waitress.
Then around the room.
Believing he had been had, he finally answered,
“No, there ain’t.”
Everyone froze.
The echo of utensils hitting several tables at once rattled the room like a perfectly timed orchestra chiming in.
After the sounds faded, you could have heard a pin drop.
Everyone stared at Lester in shock for what seemed like an eternity.
Roy slowly took a sip of his coffee.
Then he lowered his cup and asked with a shocked, almost frightened look on his face,
“You didn’t know that?”
Lester crossed his arms.
“I know how many pigs I have. AND I know how many women I ain’t got!”
“That was not the question,” Hank said.
Roy looked genuinely stunned.
The whole coffee shop was staring at Lester now.
“You mean to tell me… you have spent your entire life raising hogs in Iowa, and you never knew the hogs outnumbered the people?”
Lester narrowed his eyes.
Then he looked around at everyone.
He looked back at Hank and Roy and chuckled nervously.
“Naw… you two are trying to have me.”
Hank placed one hand over his heart.
“I swear.”
Roy nodded.
“Yes, SIR! More pigs than residents.”
Lester looked around the coffee shop as though someone might jump out and announce the joke.
Nobody did.
At the counter, the waitress had stopped wiping cups.
She had also stopped chewing her gum.
She simply blew a large bubble and stared.
The rest of the coffee shop remained silent. Almost everyone lowered their heads, trying to avoid being pulled into the conversation in any way.
Even the couple by the window lowered their newspapers and sat with their hands over their mouths, almost in shame.
Lester leaned forward and whispered,
“How many more?”
Roy answered,
“A LOT more!”
Roy began laughing.
Hank slapped the table.
The waitress’s gum bubble popped. She turned away, her head and shoulders shaking.
Lester’s face reddened.
He looked down into his coffee.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he slowly picked up his spoon.
He stirred his coffee with his head lowered, as though he had just disappointed several generations of pig farmers at once.
The entire coffee shop waited.
Finally, Lester mumbled,
“Well…”
Hank leaned closer.
“Well, what?”
Lester kept stirring.
“You learn something new every day.”
That caused another uproar.
Lester eventually sat a little straighter.
“My family has been contributing to Iowa’s population for generations.”
Hank nodded and replied,
“Just not the human one.”
Lester’s head dropped right back down.
The laughter began all over again.
And from that morning forward, whenever anyone asked Lester how many people lived in Iowa, he always gave the same answer:
“I don’t know exactly.”
Then he would take a sip of coffee and add,
“But apparently, they are badly outnumbered.”
Note: Some names, identifying details, and portions of the conversation may have been changed for storytelling purposes.
Copyright by: Deliverance Hope There’s Always Hope Publishing & Media, LLC
Keep Goin’ ‘Round Town
There’s always another story waiting just around the corner.