Let’s get this straight: I love Bloomington, Indiana. It’s a great city, with a great school. Indiana University pretty much has none of the faults that I consistently disliked Northwestern for. It’s a great college town, and incredibly CHEAP.

But, it is an oasis in southern Indiana, and as I have discovered, southern Indiana is a scary fucking place.

Allow me to relate the most recent encounter I had with Hick-dom. There is a 7-11 right outside of town. In fact, it isn’t even outside, it’s still well within the city perimeter. Amy and I are often forced to venture to this shady building, located well within the most white-trash neighborhood I’ve ever seen, in order to satiate our unbridled thirst for Slurpees.

It’s impossible to avoid the permanent red-neck fixtures, such as the sign reading, “Win a free trip in a police car! Just shoplift,” or my personal favorite, posted on the register: “No energy drinks on food stamps!”

But it’s the people, the crazy-ass people, inside that are really scary. On our most recent trip, Amy was standing in line when she overheard this conversation:

“I sold my truck.”

“To who?”

“Johnny [or whatever the hell his name was], 1,000 dollars.”

“I thought you just bought it?”

“Ya, but it cost 3,000, and that was too much. It was all pimped with electronic stuff, so I got some back.”

“That’s gay.”

“Ya, when I got out of prison he saw me and said, ‘Prison turned you faggot’. ”

“Yeah.”

That’s pretty much business as usual when you leave town, and if it weren’t for our slurpee addiction, we would avoid leaving downtown at all costs.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, January 30th, 2008 at 8:24 am and is filed under Commentaries, School. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.