People are always kidding me about being from New York City. The attitude, the accent (whaddya youse f*%kin’ talkin about?), the reputation for crime, the reputation for not being as clean, etc. My office is filled with people who are from everywhere else. Hardly anyone in Las Vegas over the age of 30 was actually born in Las Vegas. Since we’re all trapped in the office for a couple hours each morning, the conversation invariably turns to making fun of each other over whatever subject matter is handy. Place of origin is usually a good place to start, seeing as how we’re all from someplace different.
One time early in my tenure out here in Henderson, the toilets in the men’s room overflowed. A friend in the office, originally from western Canada (told you we were from all over), sent me in there, as he was aware of this calamity before I was. The stench, as you can imagine, was…interesting. When I came out all teary and misty-eyed, my friends, laughing, asked me if the odor was too much for me. “No”, I told them, fighting back the tears, “It just made me homesick!”
Blog Post Soundtrack; P. J. Harvey, Leadbelly, Queens Of The Stone Age, The Mars Volta
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