Convicts.Pimps.Kidnappers.

My awesome high school friend just flew all the way from Tennessee to visit me this past week. It was unexpected, but an awesome surprise. I've made many friends in life, but very few who understand me in the ways that she does. I warned her that NC was much like TN, and she agreed when we were taking the 2 hour drive home from the airport through tiny one-light towns with food choices like "Country Kitchen" and "Thig's BBQ" And the drive was not without the frequent spotting of confederate flags, "Redneck Woman" stickers, and ignorant claims that "The South Will Rise Again" So, she felt like she was in familiar territory.

After spending the first day exploring a wonderful waterfront park and the beach (one of the few benefits of our current location) we relaxed for the rest of the time. I kicked her ass at board games, despite her vast music and movie knowledge. What can I say? I'm just damn good at board games. Plus, I hate to lose. Whereas she is the type that hates to see people fail. Example of our completely opposite game styles: I read a question to K, knowing that she won't know the answer. After a few seconds of silence as the wheels are turning in her head, I make an annoying Taboo like buzzer sound and say "Too bad!" K then reads me a question which I am unsure of. She wants so badly for me to get it right that she begins to give me clues. Really good clues. Like she may as well have given me the answer. So of course I get it right.

Who does that? Only a really sweet, non-competitive person of course. I then felt guilty for my bad sportsmanship (of which I am famous, I admit) so I began helping her out more. But I still won both games. Sorry K. I hate to lose. I know it's a horrible trait, but it's true.

The next day we take the two hour drive back to the airport and K proceeds to tell me about the game she plays to occupy herself when she's in an area with a large amount of people. She plays "Scenarios" a game in which she creates stories about people that she sees. They almost always have something to do with murder, sexual acts, or scandal. Even innoncent looking people turn out to be pimps, convicts, or crackheads. It sounded fun. I love stories. So with the extra amount of time we had we sat on a bench and made up hilarious stories about the variety of people that passed by. A tall, skinny white man was a sex addict who was on a trip to see his dominatrix in San Francisco to get his face stepped on with stilettos. There was an older white woman with a Japanese son who kidnapped the child after cutting him from his mother's stomach. Let's give mention to the tall black man with five gold chains, gold teeth, and an absurd hat who was taking a flight to Florida to expand his "business" with his expertise on "escorts."

After our game of "scenarios" I had to say goodbye and drive home. But the fun didn't end. Every time I made eye contact with a fellow driver on the highway, I automatically started forming a story in my head. Fun, fun, fun. I will never be bored while driving again, or in the airport. Who needs magazines when I can use my own creativity?

Thanks K for coming to visit me. I miss you already.