Locals

Hayden: Pretending the hay bails were his pirate ship, and a stalk of grass his sword.

A funny thing happend to me at lunch yesterday...

Ben and I decided to go to a local country cafe for a sandwich and fries. You know that place: the hole in the wall that all the locals go to. The kind of place where the meatloaf and mashed potatoes actually taste like something your mom would make; Served on a normal-sized plate that looks like it was pulled straight out of the kitchen cabinet.

I thought about how much I liked this place when we seated ourselves (in the regular corner booth), and the familiar waitress recognized us (calling us "Hon").

Within 60 seconds after we were settled, the door opened and the lunch crowd came in: three booths full of ranchers and farmers of varying age groups. The room filled with a sea of cowboy hats and denim; The air filled with casual joking and laughter.

Not very long after that, entered two young guys (obviously from out-of-town). The room was quiet by then. I leaned over the table and spoke quietly, "They don't look like they're from around here."

And then it hit me.

It wasn't long ago that WE were the out-of-towners, coming to lunch in a town that we were "scoping-out" before making the big move. Less than two years ago WE were the city people that every local stared at and whispered about during lunch. When it was US, though, two guys actually CAME UP to us (on two separate occasions) and announced, "Hey, you're not from around here are you? What are YOU doin' here?"

When we answered with one of the "golden" responses (FARMING) everyone relaxed and smiled in relief. I'm assuming that if we would have said something like URBAN DEVELOPMENT, the reaction would have been quite different.

So, I sat there with a smirk on my face, realizing I wasn't viewed as such a wierdo anymore.

And then the waitress brought Ben an extra side of Ranch Dressing (since she knows he likes to dip his fries).