I quickly plopped my fly out for a third time, to the same fish, hoping it would still be there.
“It already gave you two chances; it probably figured that was enough.” Terry said, as my fly hit the water. SLAM! The fish hit!
“He isn’t getting away this time, Terry!” I yelled, as I brought in my fish.
“Is it a big bluegill?” Terry asked from the shore.
“No, it’s a bass, but I’m not complaining.” I said back, lipping my bass and taking out the popper. I secured my fly rod in the boat and oared back to Terry, who hooked it up to the trailer to take it out.
“Well thank you for coming along, that was fun.” Terry said, as we got back into his truck.
“How many fish do you think we caught?" I asked.
Terry thought about it for a sec',“It would have to be 65-70 at least.”
“65-70?” I asked, amazed.
“Math was never my strongest subject.” Terry said.
“Mine either, 70 it is!” I said with a laugh, as we headed home to end the night on a sobering white lie.