But...You Said Memphis

Some guy is pacing up and down the halls of this library and talking loudly on his phone. He is wearing dumb blue running clothes and most-likely fake thick-rimmed glasses, as hipsters are want to do. To you, Mr. Inconsiderate Dick: you're not important enough for anyone to even bother stopping you. They think, oh, he'll go away soon. Take my anonymous internet letter and shove it, you thick-necked, couldn't-be-a-jock-so-you-became-a-hipster jerk!

I'm going to go ahead and post that on the Craigslist Missed Connections here in Fayetteville, AR, where we arrived last night at two in the morning after a snap fuck-Memphis decision to leave.

That's right, Arkansas.

That state nobody thinks about ever. The crotch of the dude on the map made out of Iowa, Missouri, Arkansas, and Louisiana. The state filled with obnoxious hills and the dumping ground for the Clintons.

We have more of a basis coming here, at least, than when we decided on Memphis. It's an artsy, college town. Yeah, Memphis has a university, too. Well, its main fucking factory just died (Hostess) and it's dirtier than Elvis's taint, so you can imagine our disdain after three days of camping out and apartment-searching. Last night, after some library time, Brandon pointed out that we should keep our options open for other places, and that's all it took.

Honestly, I probably wouldn't have needed another town name to travel to at that point. I was getting kind of depressed about living in a city like that, where everyone is either racist or thinks that you are racist, so they give you the eye when you walk into a library and are the only white people in the place. It doesn't bother you, but everybody is waiting for you to leave so they can confirm their suspicions that you left because you were uncomfortable. When Brandon said Fayetteville, I looked at it for all of three minutes before I was convinced that we should go there.

So, here we are. Open mic nights still abound, but clean streets, clean air, and still plenty of cheap apartments everywhere. The land of the WalMart and the home of the brave hill-walkers. We can probably even pass for college students while we're here, if it comes to it. For now, it's onto the apartment search, which even though we have to start over, feels more promising than the previous search.