“Rodeo tickets right here! Hundred dollars. Get your rodeo tickets here! See them white boys get thrown all around! Hundred dollars.”
“Where are the seats?” Robert asked.
“He’s funny Dad.”
“That’s right little man. I’m as funny as they come. I bet you don’t see a lot of funny men like me up where you live, ain’t that right boss?”
Billy just smiled up at him.
“The seats, where are they?”
“Mister, they so close, you can watch the bruises change colors on the cowboys' ass.”
Billy giggled. Robert took out his 100% tanned leather wallet Johnson & Johnson had given him for one of his job anniversaries, handed the man in the cowboy hat two hundred dollars and took the tickets.
“These better be great seats.”
“If they’re not, you can come back and make me live in Harlem.” He started laughing hysterically.
“Bye mister.” Billy smiled up at him and waved.
“Bye little man. Watch you don’t get any dust in your eyes.”
For a moment, Billy and the black man held a knowing stare.
Then Robert took his sons’ hand and they went inside.
