Today, this woman walks up to the counter & asks for someone to help her with fencing. She gestures vaguely. Whitney & I are standing there, & I let her take point most of the time because it’s good for her to learn & I’m right there if she does need help. Whitney says, “Okay. Whatcha need?” Standard reply for any of us. The woman gets a sharper tone. “I need help with fencing.” Whitney hesitates. I look up. She is a replica of Peach in Lonesome Dove, bonnet, red-faced demeanor, plumpness,  & all. My mouth drops, but I recover. “Yes, ma’am, we’ll be glad to help you. But are you building a fence? Do you need pricing on barbed wire or vinyl or wooden…???” She sighs like we are her cross to bear. “I need help BACK HERE with your fencing, I want to get some sticks out of the ground,” she enunciated each word clearly as if I were a stupid hillbilly. Not appreciated. But I had time on my hands, as it were, & could humor this…old wet hen. Normally I would call for one of the guys but decided I could handle this swiftly. (Plus they were all at lunch). I followed her back to the wall where we have a few pieces displayed. Most of the stuff is in the warehouse, & in order…