I had always wanted to go to the rodeo and watch the bull riders. There was something that fascinated me about the shear strength it took and determination to stay on top of one of those monsters for 8 seconds. Oh, I had watched plenty of bull riding on the television, but I was sure it would be different in real life. Man was I right.

I bought a ticket for a bull riding event in Caldwell Idaho, and I was super stoked to go. I thought it would be kind of cool to try and get some of the cowboy’s autographs and so before the event I picked up an autograph book.

The evening of the event came, and it was everything I hoped for. Everyone was decked out in tight fitting jeans and western shirts. There was the smell of dirt and bull manure and beer in the air. As the evening progressed the crowd got drunker and were louder than ever.

During the course of the evening close towards the end of the event one cowboy road a bull and was bucked off at I think about 7 seconds. He flew through the air and slammed against the metal railing of the arena guard fence.

The clowns helped him up and he hobbled out of the arena to a standing ovation. When the night was over, I snuck to the back of the arena where the cowboy’s trailers were, hoping to get some autographs. Against the fence sitting on the ground, leaning against his saddle was the cowboy I saw get hurt by the fence rail.

I walked up to him and asked him if he was all right. He said, “the worst thing hurt is my leg and my pride.” I asked him for his autograph, and he laughed at me. “Are you sure you watched me ride? Missing that 8 second ride, knocked me out of being a contender for the bull rider of the year.”

“I don’t care.” I replied. “I thought you were fantastic and the way you got up and walked away when we could tell you were hurt was amazing.”

The cowboy looked at me and smiled. “Well partner, my name is Rex and if you really want that autograph why don’t you help me up and get me back to my trailer. My leg is killing me, I think I tore something in my shoulder and my back ain’t much better.”

I was happy to oblige, so I helped Rex to his feet, and he showed me how to sling his saddle over my shoulder. Then I walked behind him until we reached his trailer and went inside. Rex showed me where to put his saddle and asked if I had time to stay for a beer. I didn’t have anywhere else to go and so I said “sure.”

Rex grabbed us each a beer from the frig and we sat at his small kitchen table. “This is kind of embarrassing,” Rex said. “But I can’t bend my knee so I can’t get my boot off. My lady is at her mother’s, and she usually helps me. Could you give it a tug?” I reached over and grabbed the boot. As I did Rex spread his legs a little and I secretly admired the larger than normal bulge in his jeans. I shook it off as nonsense and finished helping him get his boots off.

I was thanked with another beer, and we sat and talked for a while. After I had drank my fourth beer, and lost count of how many beers Rex had thrown back, Rex told me he needed to take a shower. I was expecting him to say it was time for me to go, but he asked if I’d hang around and make sure he didn’t fall on his ass.

I was sure it was the beer talking. I mean the guy rides bucking bulls for a living, he wasn’t going to be worried about falling in the shower. Well, the beer in me spoke up and said, “sure why not.”

Rex took off his shirt and I was impressed by his muscled physique.