Wednesday, January 14, 2009

The hazzards of living in a small town



People can say what they want about us small town folk,but one thing I definitely think,is that it takes a special kind of person to be able to exist in a small town,and happily at that.

Why,you may ask?Because instead of living in a place where you hardly know what your nearest neighbours look like,or who is family of whom,I live in the kind of small town where people know me,purely based on the fact that they knew my grandparents,my parents or one of my older siblings.Here,if you're in school and you get caught doing something bad,your name is hardly mentioned,but you are more likely to be referred to as 'Mr and Mrs.So-and-so's' daughter.

In my town,there's really no secrets to be kept.What's the use?Everyone will find out eventually anyway,and then the story will probably have plenty more little twists and turns added along the way,just to make sure the story about you is worthy of being passed around.

Hardly a month goes by where there aren't stories of this one's pregnancy,this one cheating,this one losing his business,this one being caught drunk-driving,etc.For a town this size,we have plenty gossip worthy stories to choose from.Right now there's a woman I know cheating on her husband of 15 years,with a guy whose probably 10 years her junior.Another girl only got married last month,yet is 3 months pregnant,and then there's the shopkeeper who alledgedly smuggles diamonds in his fake left leg.

You really can't kiss a guy hello in this place,without you either being nearly married,pregnant or mortal enemies by the next morning.And you know what,I've learned that if there isn't a gossip story about you going around town,that more than likely means people think you're boring.And not worth talking about.And that,my friends,is a fate worse than death.I think.

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