This town sucks.

Last night, due to a longer than usual client call, we left the apartment for dinner kind of late. The time was 9:15 pm, and we didn’t know where to go to eat. It’s not like we had a wide variety of choices; we can count on only a handful of places to be any good at all, and we knew that some of those were already closed or closing.

I made a few suggestions, but they were put aside due to expense, health, or time—not much food for the money, too fattening, or probably already closed. Alright, then. Why don’t we try out the Mongolian place? It’s fairly big, so it should be open, right?

Nope. It was closed, too.

9:00 on a Friday night, folks! What’s the deal? Don’t you people get out and do things?

I can’t wait to move closer to work. Maybe then I can have a decent dinner on a Friday night, or go and see a—*gasp*—foreign film every now and then. For months, I wanted to see Amélie, but I never got around to it because it never came around here. And why? Because all we have in this town are Marines, migrant workers, people who live in double-wides, and people old enough to be addicted to Geritol.

Oh… and there’s also me, my cat, and my human encyclopedia.

Stupid town.

All I need to do is move some distance north, and I’ll be okay.

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