Sunday, January 29, 2012


     “Fine, I’ll pay for a new one!” Joan slammed her phone shut and looked out the passenger window.
     “Is everything okay?” asked Trevor from the driver’s seat.
     Joan sighed. “I borrowed a sweater from my friend Alice and now she says she can’t wear it because it smells like our side of town. You know, I hate to stereotype, but it seems like people from Abbyville are very pretentious.”
     “I have to agree,” said Gary from the back seat. “And while we’re at it, I think everyone who lives on Jackson Hill is a hick. How many old pickup trucks are jacked-up on lawns there?”
     “No kidding.” Trevor looked at Gary in the rearview mirror. “And I’ll add that anyone raised in Lewisburg is a lousy driver.”
     “Wait,” said Joan. “Aren’t you from Lewisburg?”
     “Yep,” said Trevor, as he cut-off the car in the next lane.

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