Suz was used to the anonymity of living in a big city. She could go to the store in her ratty sweats if she wanted to and no one would notice. And she could sleep in til noon and stay up all night and not worry whether anyone was noting it down. So when Suz bought her her ranch in the country, she was not prepared for her sudden notoriety with the local townsfolk.
Her ranch is quite a ways outside of the nearest town, and I mean quite a ways. First time I visited, we drove past the main town and continued through mile after mile of quiet country road toward her place. My first thought of the town and outskirts was it should be called Moseyalongfolks...
Being a suddenly single gal over 40 who drives a badass Jeep, takes life less seriously and laughs easily, it shouldn’t have surprised her that people would start to take notice.
The first time she went to the local market, the cashier said “hey, aren’t you the new chick with badass Jeep?” What the eff? OK, she figured small town, new face, yeah that’s not a stretch, but knowing what she drove? Creepy in an I-Know-What-You-Did-Last-Summer kind of way.
And then there was the time she was getting gas in town and the attendant came over and asked “how’re your horses gettin along – settlin down yet?” Were people watching her? Crap, did they also know she drove her golf cart half naked around the ranch at night? Right then, she felt about as anonymous as Britney Spears in rehab.
Seemed everywhere she went the locals would share what they knew about her ranch, Jeep, dogs, and horses. The freak factor was huge. Like having her Facebook account hacked. And while the locals all seemed sincere, she knew their curiosity and her sudden lack of privacy was the trade-off for living in a small town. “If I wanted every Tom, Dick, and Harry to know shit about me, I’d date them. Here, every Tom, Dick, and Harry knows shit about me and I didn’t even get a steak dinner out of it.”
The day Suz knew without a doubt “we’re no longer in Kansas Toto”, was when her teenage son asked where all the gang bangers were. She figured the bangers probably keep to the big city to avoid stopping for gas in places like Moseyalongfolks and having the attendants ask “how’re you bangers gettin along here in the country – sellin drugs yet?”
Yeah, there are trade-offs with country living. In the country, a drive by shooting usually meant a local had found dinner.
I don’t know if I could ever move to a small town. When Suz told me she bought a ranch in the country, I think I expected the townsfolk to all be missing teeth, talking hillbilly, and wearing dirty overalls. And then I’d chat with Suz and sometimes find out how close I was. But mostly, I’d be reminded that reality is sometimes far different than what you expected. Sometimes, different is exactly what you never knew you even wanted.
It wouldn’t take long before Suz felt right at home in her new life. She had eased into a new world full of colorful people who welcomed her with interesting stories and found a comfortable place where everyone knows your name.
(But she did start wearing full sweats when driving the golf cart at night, just in case.)
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