Here’s all I know about North Face: it is the outerwear of choice for every Starbucks-cup-carrying douchebag that walks the streets of Northern Virginia. So I had to Google. I learned two things: 1. It is The North Face, not North Face, and 2. No one on the website is carrying a cup of Starbucks. I am certain The North Face jackets and coats are fine garments made for people who actually go outside, but have been ruined for the real outdoor adventurers by aforementioned dbags. Nonetheless, one of the best things about living in a small town is not seeing The North Face jackets attached to assholes drinking coffee everywhere I go. Until…
I noticed some of the college kids wearing The North Face jackets this winter. I was able to let that go. For starters, as I have previously written, there were many days when there were fewer degrees on the thermometer than fingers on my hand. And most of the kids have to walk to class. Uphill. Because it is called “West Virginia flat” for a reason. Plus many of the students are New Jersey imports. But that’s a different story for a different day.
Then I went to the Hagerstown outlets and—EGAD!—there is a The North Face store. OK, I cannot call it The North Face anymore. It sounds dumb. So the outlets have a North Face store, which means it will not be long before all the young folks are driving four hours and wasting $50 in gas to save $10 on a slightly IR coat with a North Face logo on it. And this week, the straw of the camel, I have learned we are getting a Starbucks. This will not end well for me.
So now I ponder what other aspects of my small town might be in danger:
- The truck left unoccupied with the engine running outside the bank, not because the bank was being robbed, but because it was one of those cold days and the owner wanted to keep the cab warm.
- Men other than Brett Favre wearing Wranglers.
- My UnderArmour bag that I left sitting in the Food Court being turned into Lost and Found instead of stolen. I still can’t believe that actually happened. (Note: this was at an outlet mall that does not have a North Face store.)
- “Bad traffic” meaning an extra twenty minutes on the road, not four hours.
- People holding the door open for me when I follow them into a store. After almost three years, this still freaks me out a little. I always wonder if the person is holding open the door so he can grab my money. Or my boob.
- The man who returned the purse he found in a cart in the parking lot to the TJ Maxx.
- Pickup trucks on the side of the road selling corn and tomatoes.
- Hearing ladies say they went into the press to put on their slacks so they could go to town because pop is on sale and they bought a whole buggy of it.
- The honor system.
- Strangers talking to me in parking lots, not to ask me for money, just to comment on how hot it is or whether or not it will rain today. (Young gal looking for a random act of kindness in the Walmart parking lot excluded.)
- Having people not give a rat’s ass about what kind of car I drive. And if my car breaks down or I drive it into a ditch, someone in a truck will stop and help me. Guaranteed.
- Talking to the neighbors about the latest bear/deer/coyote/turkey sighting. Yesterday evening was turkey day across the road from our house (see below).
So I am vowing to enjoy more aspects of small town living before I start seeing Segways. I should probably start by checking out the clearance rack at Walmart. If there’s a North Face jacket on it, I’m going to pitch a fit…