A rugged man in a weathered Stetson hat was quietly nursing a drink at a local bar when a young woman slid onto the stool right next to him.
Taking in his dusty boots and spurs, she asked, “Excuse me, sir, but are you a real cowboy?”
The man smiled proudly. “Well, I own a ranch, ride horses, and herd cattle for a living. So yes, I suppose I’m a real cowboy.”
The woman sighed deeply, staring into her glass. “That’s nice. I just realized something about myself today. I’m a lesbian.”
“How so?” the cowboy asked.
“Beautiful women are the only things on my mind,” she explained. “Whether I’m working, driving, eating, or just waking up, I cannot stop thinking about them. I’m completely obsessed.” She finished her drink, paid her tab, and walked out.
Moments later, a young guy walked into the bar, took the newly empty seat, looked at the older man’s hat, and asked, “Sir, are you a real cowboy?”
The man took a slow, agonizing sip of his beer, stared blankly at the wall, and replied:
“Well, I’ve spent my whole life thinking I was… but I just found out five minutes ago that I’m actually a lesbian.”
