I was in the city of Little Rock, Arkansas, this weekend on some R&R with old friends, and discovered that there are approximately two million toes, active and on duty, in this fine town.

I didn’t count. I’m working off the 2016 census number of 198,541, so this is a give or take situation. Some people might have had six toes on one foot, like Cricket back home in South Carolina. (He still made All-State.) Some folks might have lost a leg, and thus their toes. Some people might have shot a toe off, as my dad did with a shotgun. (True story! True story!)

Those sorts of tragedies will skew the numbers. And the toes.

Me and my (10) toes ended up in Little Rock because of two of my immature friends, who have important jobs but still…they, like me, are basically idiots. We always say we are going to meet somewhere and do something. Two of us will get to go to this (Final Four, 2018) but one can’t make it. Two of us will get to go to that (LA Tech Athletics Hall of Fame inductions) but the other one can’t make it.

But when I walked into the downtown Marriott Friday afternoon, Thing 1 was there to meet me — “I can’t believe we finally DID it!” — and Thing 2 walked in 30 minutes later.

Joy. Rapture!

(Often at night when I am sitting on the couch and I have my phone in front of me and I am laughing, my spousal unit will ask, without stopping as she walks by, “Talking to your immature friends again?”)

It’s so beautiful. Longtime immature friends are the best friends. History and all.

So we walk around downtown LR Saturday morning and all, cruisin’, being cool, trying to keep the chicks away from us, and we end up at the Farmer’s Market, which — kudos to Little Rock — is awesome. And that’s where I see the sign above. And I figure, “Dang, the toe ring biz in Little Rock must be off the charts.”

“Hey, all you toes! Back off! Stay in the waiting area!”

There was no such problem on this steamy morning. Maybe it was the humidity or the time of day, or maybe all the toes needing toe rings slept in, but business was slack on this particular lazy day. There were ten toes in the Getting Fitted Area and, despite two million toes within this sign’s gravitation pull, no toes on deck.

But I appreciated the guy’s sign. And his optimism. And his willingness.

Ringless, our toes cruised on to a book store and to a latte, and then to THE event of the trip…

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