Tales From The Crypt

Well, I've made the voyage back to my parents house to visit for the weekend, and in my 15 short hours at home it's already been quite an interesting experience. Last night when I arrived, my parents and I decided to go to dinner to this small restaurant close to their house. I have always liked going to this place and the food is very good. It used to be a speakeasy during prohibition and the decor of the place has changed very little since then. (literally) When we got there, around 8 or so, the bar area was already full with the local drunks, which is always a highlight for me. Halfway through dinner my dad started to regale me with stories of his drinking days with "Birdman", a shifty looking man halfway sitting on his stool. And how he and "Birdman" and "Smoker" and "Chunky" used to come to that very bar well before their legal drinking age. (Which, coincidentally, I too can remember imbibing at this bar before my legal age). Then a man named "PeeWee" bought our table a round of drinks, and no one really seemed to know who "PeeWee" was. Ok, thanks for the beer PW!
At some point after arriving home my whole family feel asleep in front of the TV, and I woke up to a Marlon Brando movie at midnight.
Flash forward to this morning. My grandpa and I went out for breakfast at the town's one and only restaurant. The place is always filled with locals for breakfast, usually my grandpas age. Mixed in with our conversation I couldn't help but overhear other table's conversations which included topics such as how a black Muslim or a woman would never be good enough to run our country, the obscene number of abortions that happen and what needs to be done to stop it, and how the cold is really "doin' a number" on the local farms and cows. NOW I remember why I wanted to move far, far away. I also had the opportunity to listen to a conversation between the man who used to drive the bookmobile when I was en elementary school and his friend about flat chested women. Oh, and I forgot I had to park my car (with anti-republican propaganda bumper stickers) in between a large truck with a gun-rack and bumper sticker that said "I am the NRA and I support the President and the troops" and a small pick-up with a "G.W. Bush again in 2008" bumper sticker. Um, I'm getting the hell out of here. Now, I must say although the majority of my morning had to deal with hickish rightwinger bullshit, it's not usually the case the entire time. I guess it was just my lucky day.