The Kansas Peculiarity.

There’s a woman who walks around the Shire with her dog. The only time I ever spoke to her was about six years ago when she told me she was from Kansas and – maybe more importantly – that her dog was called Jo-Jo. I’ve only seen her a few times since then, usually when I’ve been in the car and she’s been walking along the top road that skirts the common. Yesterday, however, I decided I needed her.

I’ve started to get an occasional visitor in my Feedjit, you see, who is recorded as coming from ‘Kansas City, Missouri.’ This confused me because I’d always assumed that Kansas City would be in Kansas. Well, you would, wouldn’t you? So I googled it and the returns were ambiguous. Some suggested that there are two cities called Kansas City, while others suggested that there is only one, but it’s split down the middle by the Kansas/Missouri state line. I dislike ambiguity; it irritates me; I like definitive answers in situations where there’s a definitive answer to be had.

‘I could do with meeting that woman from Kansas,’ I thought, ‘the one with the dog called Jo-Jo. Bet she’d know, but I see her so infrequently that it isn’t likely so I’ll just have to put up with not knowing. Life can be cruel like that. Oh, well…’

I went for a walk today, and guess who was coming out of Bag Lane as I approached. Yup: Mrs Kansas and Jo-Jo. Isn’t it good when life works out just perfectly for a change?

She gave me the lowdown on Kansas City. It is, indeed, one place divided by the state line. And she also told me something interesting:

‘If you buy liquor in one part of the city, you can’t take it across the state line to the other part. Different taxes.’

Ah, in that case I don’t think I’ll go there. The special offers might be on the wrong side of the line.