#smalltownprobs

So Artesia, NM. This place is so crazy small, about 11,000 or so people live there. You have to put on makeup before you go into the Walmart. And if you forgot, you put it on in the parking lot real fast because that guy you had a class with in high school one time will really notice if you don’t slab on whatever was the crumpled, dilapidated remains of a 99 cent LA Colors attempt at a smokey-eye palette of eyeshadow you impulse-bought from the Walmart you’re in the parking lot of that one time in the deep corners of the bottom of your purse. I guess it’s time for another emergency 99 cent LA Colors eyeshadow palette. Maybe this time you’ll get crazy and get the one that supposedly for your eye color. It doesn’t matter, really, what color the eyeshadow is because it’s basically going to melt off of your eyelids before you reach the air-conditioned building anyway. So now you’re just sitting there in your crap car psyching yourself up for the un-air-conditioned outside world, thinking about how dumb eyeshadow is and considering going back to college all at the same time and you’re just making this drool-inducing face and suddenly your old math teacher or maybe your old baton instructor or, fuck it, maybe that guy you drunkenly made out with in your car on a whim that one time catches you staring into space. You pretend you didn’t see her/him and quickly race-walk into the store.

One time I met the mayor of my hometown, Phil Burch, and he was like, “oh hey, I’m the mayor, Phil Burch.” And I was like, “yeah I know who you are,” which I meant as a compliment but since I have an attitude problem he never talked to me again.