Retro - Jack, there’s no speed limit in Montana!
The Wife and I were in Mexico on our honeymoon last year. One evening, we were at the resort bar, sitting outside on the patio, and this older (60’s) American (and judging from what they talked about the entire time, obviously very wealthy) husband and wife were sitting behind me. Part of their conversation went like so:
- Jack’s Wife:
- What ever happened to old what’s his name?
- Jack:
- Who?
- Jack’s Wife:
- *Tries to describe "what’s his name" to Jack.*
- Jack:
- Oh, he moved to Montana.
- Jack’s Wife:
- MONTANA? But he’s a hairstylist, people in Montana don’t get haircuts, they cut their hair with hacksaws. And they kill their food with their bare hands.
- Jack:
- *Laughs*
- Jack’s Wife:
- Jack, there’s no speed limit in Montana.
Evidently Montana is inhabited, at least in the mind of Jack’s wife, only by hacksaw wielding animal killers that haul ass in their cars with no regard for how fast they are going. Well Jack’s wife, I have to say, I’ve spent a few summers in Montana myself, and I’d have to admit that you really aren’t that far from the truth.
