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Aaron N. Tubbs

Dragon chaser.

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I don’t really belong here. It was pretty obvious on the first day, but I wouldn’t say I belong here any more now than I did before. Everybody looks at me funny. This puts into doubt whether or not I could really live anywhere backwoods or rural anymore.

I mean, I love the slurpees. I even got a metal straw at one 7-11. It’s so cool. I would get so fat if I had a slurpee machine near me.

But the nearest competent bookstore is 180 miles away. 180 miles. The coffee is really bad. Everywhere. The food is terrible; about all I could find of decent quality is a burrito or a burger, and usually fast food was the better bet. Not expensive, but terrible.

The stores are terrible. Wal-Mart is the shopping mall, in that the nearest real mall is, again, 180 miles away. Not that I need a shopping mall. But if you want anything other than outdoor, hunting, or farming gear, you’re sort of out of luck. There aren’t any electronics stores; video gamers have GameStop and Wal-Mart. I think the Wal-Mart may have the only decent optometry department in town. I suppose I’d live on Amazon.

As an interesting note, overnight delivery from the post office here is not overnight. I’m not sure if the same would hold for Amazon prime. But I can’t live without Amazon prime anymore.

The best hotel in town is terrible; lazy, unprofessional, poorly insulated from noises, and overpriced. I’ve slept in better Baymont inns. Seriously.

The cheap motels in town look like a good place to die. Or be killed.

The weather isn’t so bad. I don’t mind the heat, the dry heat thing works for me. But I can’t wrap my mind around the sun being up until almost 11.

I did not once see a cop on the road with a radar gun, until I got to Colorado. If you have a fast car and some serious balls, you could drive whatever speed you wanted on both terribly straight and terribly twisty mountain roads with exposures. This area is a speed freak’s paradise.

The beer is awful. Notable exceptions are the brews available at the surprisingly decent “Dinosaur Brew Haus” down the street, where they have several 4% abv (omg) brews from Utah from Wasatch and somebody else. None of them were great, but all were far better than the 3.2% abv domestic piss at the gas stations. There is no alcohol, except for what you buy from the state run liquor stores when they say you can. As far as I can tell, people don’t go out at night, per se. At least not in the same way they do out east.

There are only white people here. I find this strangely disconcerting and uncomfortable. About the biggest cultural difference is that the hotel staff all seem to be German, and I think I talked to somebody from Russia at McDonald’s. That’s it.

I’m ready to go home. I hate to say it, but in terms of places I’ve visited that I’d be comfortable living, New York, bay area, and Seattle are about all that I’d want to spend any time in.