I sat alone in the darkness, waiting for the signal. The cool wind whipped my hair and I cuddled deeper in my coat. Somewhere in the night, coyotes were fighting. I waited impatiently.
Finally headlight beams pierced the night. The truck rolled up next to me and four guys tumbled out. One nodded. I gave a solemn nod back. He broke into a smile and the Keystone was held aloft. I had passed the first test.
I hadn't planned on attempting such a delicate mission on my Friday night. I had come home for my brother's confirmation, but that wasn't until Sunday, so Friday night was my night to go out.
Unfortunately it was also the night my boyfriend, Kevin, had strep throat and didn't want to move. But he was nice enough to let me know there was a party out at our friend Sam's and gave me his blessing to go hang out with his friends.
Now, normally I would be fine going out without Kevin, but this was dangerous territory. I had been invited to the exclusive guys' night where no woman had ventured before.
I had to brace myself for a night of beer, chew tobacco and possibly having to hold someone back as the inevitable Massey v. John Deere tractor fight broke out. I was worried things could go bad fast, but my other option was sitting home and watching ""Dances With Wolves"" with my parents, so I decided to take a chance.
As I said, the first test went well. Bringing some beer had appeased the tribesmen, and we all sauntered into the shed. Tractor parts, crushed beer cans and oil scattered the landscape. There was a mad dash for the two prize seats; relatively clean upside-down buckets sitting next to the tiny space heater.
I was lucky enough to grab one of the prized seats, and settled in with my beer. The boys all gathered round, and the second test began. They began to discuss the different farm machinery makes, models and everything else a farm boy could ever dream of.
Suddenly I realized the conversation had stopped. Someone had asked me something. He repeated his question, what brand was I loyal to?
I racked my brain. This could be a trap. I knew the group was split between John Deere and Massey, but what side to choose? I wished Kevin were with me, but I took a leap of faith and said Massey.
Wrong answer. One boy smiled appreciatively, but I was in trouble with the others now. I could tell my time in the shed could be running out.
The John Deere faithful got up and gathered a little ways away. They all whispered to each other and began pretending to examine Sam's tractor. Finally Sam called over to me, requesting I bring him a 3/16 wrench, a hammer and a beer.
Now this might not seem very difficult, but one small screw up and I would be laughed out of the shed and back to a night of Kevin Costner. I grabbed the hammer and quickly found the wrench. I brought these to Sam, who was clearly impressed by my wrench knowledge. But I had forgotten the beer—the most fundamental aspect of guy's night—and I could tell I was about to get my butt kicked out.
It was then I pulled out my secret weapon. From my pocket, I withdrew the Holy Grail: an ice-cold Old Milwaukee Light. I knew the way to these men's hearts was a choice lager.
Sam's eyes filled with joy. Taking the prize beer, he threw his arm around me and began to give me the grand tour of the shop. Never mind that I had been to Sam's countless times before with Kevin, I was now one of them and entitled to know where each tool was kept, where to avoid sitting if I didn't want to be pooped on by barn swallows, and where Sam hid the one and only lawn chair—where the queen would be sitting this guys' night.
If you want to have a beer and talk tractors with Megan, e-mail her at mcorbett2@wisc.edu.
