Surrounded by a White Trash World
I am consistently amazed at how classless people can be.
Charlie, the kids, and I arrive at our usual grassy knoll last night to watch the fireworks. Like most crazy "I want a good spot" fanatics, we get there 2 hours early so we could get a good spot. While, at the time, it seems like a great idea to get there before the rush, to not have to hurry to set up your junk, to not have to worry about people bitching and complaining because the spot you've chosen has somehow obstructed their view, I soon discover, like every other year, this leaves way too much time on your hands, after the fact.
Once you've arrived, and your gear has been strategically placed, you are left with absolutely nothing to do but stare at the people accumulating around you.
And, unfortunately for us, the people who had accumulated around us were, nicely put, white trash in it's finest accord.
From the fake blond hair with the 3 inch black roots to the daisy duke shorts with the skin tight hooded sweatshirts, they had it all. I was especially intrigued at how the father had playfully tried yank up the daughter's sweatshirt while she lay on the ground making out with her boyfriend.
The only thing missing were the handful of mullet wearing tots with rotten teeth and bags of candy.
Then again, there's always next year!
Hope you had a happy 4th!
Charlie, the kids, and I arrive at our usual grassy knoll last night to watch the fireworks. Like most crazy "I want a good spot" fanatics, we get there 2 hours early so we could get a good spot. While, at the time, it seems like a great idea to get there before the rush, to not have to hurry to set up your junk, to not have to worry about people bitching and complaining because the spot you've chosen has somehow obstructed their view, I soon discover, like every other year, this leaves way too much time on your hands, after the fact.
Once you've arrived, and your gear has been strategically placed, you are left with absolutely nothing to do but stare at the people accumulating around you.
And, unfortunately for us, the people who had accumulated around us were, nicely put, white trash in it's finest accord.
From the fake blond hair with the 3 inch black roots to the daisy duke shorts with the skin tight hooded sweatshirts, they had it all. I was especially intrigued at how the father had playfully tried yank up the daughter's sweatshirt while she lay on the ground making out with her boyfriend.
The only thing missing were the handful of mullet wearing tots with rotten teeth and bags of candy.
Then again, there's always next year!
Hope you had a happy 4th!
@ 8:58 AM
5 Comments:
Oh, those mullet heads were there. They were way behind you.
Oh man, the mullet. Has there ever been such a "fabulous" haircut?! LOL!
Next year they'll prolly get there early so they can get their car up on blocks and two washing machines and a couch set up on the grass.
God I miss my hometown. :)
Sherri - That's why I don't go to the fireworks in my hometown anymore...there's no escaping the mullet.
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