Goodbye, Big Spring

A morning of airports after a night of goodbyes. West Texas, I found more than a few faults with you, but for the last two months you've been a haven for me from up speak, hipster fashion, vocal fry, and shitty pop music. For this, I will always be grateful.

Last night new friends took me out for an alcohol soaked goodbye. They were all women, and their husbands and boyfriends talked sports at the far end of the table and regarded me with jovial hostility and skepticism. "Make sure you come back and visit" one of them said, but I don't think he meant it.

Later, a young man approached me while I was pumping gas close to midnight and invited me out drinking with him. He remembered me from around New Year's when I helped keep him and his friends from pummeling a belligerent borracho who was asking for it. They bought me many drinks after that which probably explains why I had no memory of his face. He's a pipeline worker making good money here far from home and family.

"My teachers all said I wouldn't amount to shit in life. Now I make twice as much as they do. Maybe my Mom's even a little proud of me too. I think she might be a little. I hope she is."