Bob and Wheeler had been up nearly two hours working on a manure spreader when Bob noticed Wheeler not moving. He just stared out with a ten mile gaze frozen in place. Bob had seen it before so he wasn't as surprised as he might have been. He put down his tools.
“Hey, Wheeler, you getting' a message from the ozone or something?” Bob couldn't help twitting him.
Wheeler blinked a few times, shook his head slightly and slowly came back like he was coming out of a nap. “Yeah, right here.” He glanced to Bob. “What did you say? Did I miss something?”
“Oh nothing much, just a troop of naked girl scouts selling cookies.”
Wheeler spun around to check the rear door, alarmed. He turned back to Bob about to say something and Bob interjected, “Gotcha.” Bob couldn't hold it in for more than a moment and they both burst out laughing. Wheeler was only a bit embarrassed.
As it subsided down to chuckles, Wheeler got up and grabbed a shop rag, handing one to Bob. “Well boss, how about some coffee?”
“Sure, there's still a bit left, I'll check.”
“Naw, not that stuff, I meant a genuine, store bought cup from a swank place. How about that?”
Bob looked a bit confused until he saw Wheeler's big grin, catching on to the subtle inference. “OK” he said slowly. “I'm guessing that swank place is the diner?”
“Yup” Wheeler said with a bigger grin as he headed toward the back door where the truck was parked.