Monday, May 4, 2009

Small Town Life

Although I had been visiting Howard out here for over a year before I actually made the move out here, he and I both barely knew anyone. We were relatively anonymous when going out. A little over a year later and that has changed dramatically. We can't go anywhere without knowing someone now. It freaks me out. I lived in Sterling/Herndon for 11 years and I could go to Giant and not see a single soul that I recognized. Definitely not the case here. Take Saturday for instance. We were standing in line at Bluegrass Downs to place bets on the KY Derby. Up walks this old guy Bob (who totally looks like my Dad 20 years from now) and a guy that works in Howard's building. Then the lady who serves beer there recognizes us and asks why we aren't coming in to watch the races today. We then head over to Nick's Sports Bar where we know the bartenders. I expect to know the bartenders but what I don't expect is to know every single person they are gossiping about. Even the Subway lady knows my name and what sandwich I'm going to order.

I've learned a valuable lesson in regards to living in a very small town. Keep your mouth shut! One day I was at the laundromat minding my own business when an older woman comes up to me and points outside to a woman in her car passed out. She had one leg out the door and her head was thrown back to the side of the head rest. She had on a winter jogging suit and it was 85 degrees outside. You could see the sweat pouring off of her. The old woman tells me that she has been like that since before her and her husband arrived over an hour ago. She goes outside and tries to wake the lady up but she can't so she calls 911. The police arrive and bang on the woman's hood until she finally comes to. She has a hearing aid falling out of her ear and you can tell she has no idea where she is or what's going on. Turns out she had taken a bunch of painkillers. They pulled bottle after bottle out of her car. EMS arrives and she is carted off but not before walking straight into a vending machine.

Fast forward to about 4 months later when I'm again, sitting in the laundromat when a truck driver I know from work comes in. See, very small town. About a month later the truck driver is in my office and we are talking about how we hate the laundromat. I remember the crazy lady story and begin to tell him about it. It went something like this. "Oh, this one time, I was there on a Friday afternoon and this crazy lady was passed out in her car all doped up on painkillers-". He cuts me off and says "That crazy lady is my girlfriend." For some strange reason he still likes me and calls me sunshine but I've never been more embarrased in my life. Lesson learned.

1 comment:

  1. oh my goodness! there's nothing like living in a small town!