Thursday, September 29, 2011

W.O.W. Day 4

7:30 a.m.- Got up a bit earlier than expected. Didn’t have an earwig to greet me. Things are only going up from here on out.

8:12 a.m.-I liked Penny’s Diner so much I decided to head on over and grab a quick Denver Omelet. John Travolta didn’t greet me like she did last night, but I was still taken care of. Behind me sat two construction workers who were grabbing some coffee and a doughnut meanwhile the F-bomb littered their vocabulary. Across the way was an elderly couple who were turning down their hearing aids because of the foul language. I thought the old geezer was going to bust out his cane on these two curse word dummies. We exchanged glances and I gave him a smile, calmed the old sucker down.

9:17 a.m.- Began setting up for Green River High School when one of the Wyoming recruiters from an anonymous institution began to chat with me about the trip.

Wyoming John Doe Recruiter: “So where’dya stay last night?”
Swamp Thing: “I was over at the Oaktree Inn. I kinda liked it.”
Wyoming John Doe Recruiter: “Oaktree huh?” He chuckles. “You know what that place is known fer don’t ya?”
Swamp Thing: Confused/perplexed/WTF look across my face. “Uh…no?”
Wyoming John Doe Recruiter: “That used to be the place where prostitutes got the hook up.”
I instantly pause setting up my table and give him a blank stare.
Wyoming John Doe Recruiter: “Yeah, I remember one night I was sitting there in bed, and all of a sudden I hear this…”
Swamp Thing: “Alright! That’s it! I’m done!” I throw my hands up in the air and walk to the nearest bathroom in hopes that there’s a can of bleach I can sterilize myself with.

11:01 a.m.-I finish setting up for the Rock Springs fair when a counselor drops by my table and hands me a Quizno’s sandwich. They have a Quizno’s here in Wyoming? On the wrapper it says the word “Sammy”. Curse you B.E.P. Longhorn, you and your southern slang.

12:38 p.m.- I run over to the local Chevron to fill up my tank when I see a giant statue smiling at me from across the street. (Hence the picture). The bald Buddah is standing outside a local convenience store with the words liquor being advertised to Rock Springs patrons. Across the street is a large adult movie store with the letters XXX littered all over the sides. Ironic that the plaster pervert is staring at the dirty building. Either that’s sheer coincidence or some clever marketing. I’ll put my money on the first. They’re not smart enough to do something like that.

1:41 p.m.- Halfway through my drive up to Big Piney I notice something about this state. Wyoming is a dirty, dirty, place to live. I am speaking both figuratively and literally. Literally because there is nothing but dirt, everywhere. Brown and grey are the state colors. People don’t seem to shower on a bi-weekly basis, and the whole place just seems encrusted with filth. Figuratively because I have never seen this many adult stores and liquor cabinets in my entire life. Any direction I look I see the word liquor. Heck, it’s probably even scribbled into the rocks as a state monument for all I know. This place puts Ogden, and Richmond, Virginia to shame as one of the foulest, most dirty places I have ever been.

3:03 p.m.-I arrive at the only hotel in town. A tiny mouse hole in a town whose population is smaller than my graduating high school class. No exaggeration there. I make chit-chat with the hotel cashier about possible recreational activities.

Swamp Thing: “So what’s there to do for fun in this town?”
Cashier: “Well, let’s see, we ain’t got no movie theater. I think there’s a bowlin’ alley somewhere around here.”
Swamp Thing: “Ya’ll got any golf courses?” I’m starting to talk like them.
Cashier: “Yeah, about 40 miles south.”
Swamp Thing: “Hmm…I don’t know if it’s worth the drive for that then.”
Cashier: “Well, we gotta bar. You drink?”
Shaking my head, I contemplate the pro’s and con’s of throwing my morals down the drain and becoming an alcoholic.

7:18 p.m.- After three hours of homework I call up B.E.P. Longhorn just to have some connection with civilization.

B.E.P. Longhorn: “Yeah, I’m just sitting here at Pasta Factory about to eat. What’ve you been doin’ all day?”
Swamp Thing: “Nothing. This place is empty. Not even a cowboy like you would enjoy it up here.”
Secretly he smiles as his Chicken Alfredo is served to him. Meanwhile, I debate about going gopher hunting for dinner.

7:41 p.m.- I take a quick drive to scout out my surroundings, when I approach the following sign.

I think they should rename this Little Piney. No, better yet, how about Miniscule Piney. This place is so small, I don’t even think that Horton the Elephant would have heard it. Despite it’s lack of size, I have now passed five bars. Yes, five. There are more places to get drunk here than there is in all of Utah County. And that’s saying something.

7:59 p.m.- I walk into the only food joint that I can find, and am greeted with icy glares from every obese pair of eyes that are holding a Bud Light. I’m getting this icy treatment for one of three reasons. A. I’m not wearing a cowboy hat, B. I’m wearing clothes that do not have a stain on them, or C. I’m sober. Whatever the case is, I’m the sore thumb that’s sticking out.

8:30 p.m.- While I’m waiting for my chicken fried chicken I hear a pair of conversations to my left and right that would have been too risqué for my high school football locker room. Heck, Daniel Tosh would have said these dialogues were a little too crude. The six guys surrounding me have dropped more F-bombs and sexually provocative slangs than Dave Chappelle and Dane Cook combined. And out of nowhere one of the town drunks yells out the phrase “I then, I saw Everrett holding a bobcat in a suitcase!” No exaggeration there kids, that drunk schmuck tossed that line out there verbatim.

8:48 p.m.-By the time she brings out my chicken fried chicken, I could have hunted down a chicken, cut its head off, taken it down to Penny’s Diner myself and had a piece of pie and ice cream.

Waitress: “Sorry hun, we just had a big order uh chicken fried chicken. Like 50 of em. Sorry for the wait.”
Lady, there aren’t 50 chickens in this entire town to begin with, just be honest and admit that you took forever on my order because I’m the only person in this joint that’s not boozed up.

9:10 p.m.- And now here I sit on a grimy bed with nothing but a laptop and a blogpost to keep me occupied. I know I sound really negative about this town, but in all reality, this place is just full of gross, dirty people. People who think that alcohol is more important than water. People who think the F-bomb is appropriate in front of 3-year olds. People who yell out random thoughts about bobcats in suitcases! I gotta get outta here. Turning the lights off, I rotate to the fetal position on the bed and think happy thoughts. One more day. One more day…

Location: Green River, Rock Springs, Big Piney, WY

What do you think?


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