THUG*
Some years ago, I was at a party with a friend in the city next to mine. It's a well-known place of maize and blue that, if you know anything about this town, you know not to call it yellow. It's bigger than my city, and everything from its population's values and fears to its demographics and tax bracket starkly contrasts with my beloved city. Despite this, my town and its neighbor usually coexist fairly peacefully, with the inhabitants of the former generally leaving those in the latter alone, and those in the latter barely ever passing the strip mall at the border between us. "The elephant's graveyard," they'll call my city, quoting The Lion King as they gaze off toward the East. It's not uncommon, and I'm consistently better at disrupting that sort of talk when I hear it, but this party seemed particularly rife with those who felt strongly about the inferiority of where I lived. I was not equipped.
Comments (1)
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