Scary, Indiana

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Posted on Wednesday, January 30th, 2008 at 8:24 am.

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.

2 comments to “Scary, Indiana”

  1. Comment by Kevin:

    I think I would die if I ever went there.

    Not because I wouldn’t be able to take it, but because someone would kill me.

  2. Comment by Mike:

    gay

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