With my own eyes

[roxybisquaint]

I saw a guy with a comb in his back pocket and a mullet.

I don't just mean a regular comb. Remember those combs with the long handles that people used to carry in their pocket as a fashion accessory? When was that, like 1980 or there about? Well he had one of those and it was sticking a good 4" out of the back pocket of his jean shorts, complimented by long socks and a muscle shirt (sans muscles).

And when I say he had a mullet, I don't mean an ordinary mullet. I'm talking full-on Billy Ray Cyrus Achy Breaky Heart mullet, the length of which was pulled neatly back in a ponytail that hung to the middle of his yellow muscle shirt (which matched his yellow muscle car, by the way). Here's the odd thing: he was using a girl's scrunchie to hold his ponytail.

How does a guy end up like that? I think there's a story there.

Comments

[cisaac.livejournal.com]

A story I hope to never learn. *shudders*

[roxybisquaint.livejournal.com]

I'm just going to take a wild stab here and say he was one cool, not very bright redneck dude in high school and has changed very little since, except for the weathered look of his face and the bristly grey of his hair. The yellow muscle car (an old Mustang with a hotrod engine and loud muffler) probably replaced a primer grey Nova that for years he intended to fix up but never did.

When he got a job working construction he took his first pay check to the liquor store to get it cashed, and bought some Bud and a pack of Newports or Marlboro reds. With his second check, he bought a Ford pickup truck, which he replaced with another over the years. It has rust holes around the wheel wells but he still drives it to work. And that old primered Nova? It probably sits in some long grass behind the house. The Mustang, now his pride and joy, gets prime real estate in the garage, where he spends weekends tinkering with the engine (though he drinks more than he tinkers). And weekend nights are spent hanging out in the mall parking lot with other muscle car owners.

[cisaac.livejournal.com]

*facepalm*

... damn you.

[roxybisquaint.livejournal.com]

Hehehehehehehe.

[the-narration.livejournal.com]

....Wow.

Impressive. Most impressive.

[roxybisquaint.livejournal.com]

I grew up in a hick town.

[the-narration.livejournal.com]

Likewise, although a slightly different flavor of one, I think. Less Mustangs and mullets, more F-series pick-ups and mustaches. In Oregon. Population: less than two thousand (at the time). The high school had sheep living on the grounds and an average graduating class of about 65 kids.

[roxybisquaint.livejournal.com]

DING DING DING DING DING. We have a winner for having grown up in the hickest town! (That would be you).

We had a population of about 5000 and no sheep on the school grounds, though there was a small farm adjacent to the high school (also one across the street from the elementary school). Our closest shopping mall was a 45-minute drive (movie theater too). One of my best friends lived on a tobacco farm (where I once helped hang tobacco to dry), the other lived in a trailer park. When a McDonald's opened, the town held a parade. And yes there were lots of muscle cars and mullets.

[the-narration.livejournal.com]

Luckily we were only 13 miles of highway from the second largest city in Oregon, so if you had a car you could get to civilization on short notice. But I took calculus and physics at the high school quite literally the only year they actually had them, and computer, art and business classes got cut for lack of money while the Agriculture program remained a force to be reckoned with.

[roxybisquaint.livejournal.com]

OMG seriously? Okay that's pretty darn hick when they don't have common classes like calculus and geometry every year. I imagine the Future Farmers of America had as strong of a presence in your high school as in mine then.

[the-narration.livejournal.com]

They had geometry. Although at the time it was actually a combined geometry/algebra thing called Integrated Math. But the only year physics and AP calculus were options was when they had a teacher from the community college teaching there part time. Luckily, that was my senior year.

FFA? Oh, totally. I avoided it and the Ag classes like the plague, but people I know were quite heavily involved.