Getting dumped sucks. Getting dumped in a small, Midwestern town, sucks significantly more. Its quite easy to run short on options to bounce back.
Heres my true story that hits rebounds harder than Rodman in the playoffs….
Mid July in the midwest, weather looks pretty, but burns your face, corn, and every hick town has a festival. This weekend was ours. I was looking forward to having an excuse for being shit-faced. Since my break up, id spent 6 weeks finding out what my liver was really made of, and people were starting to talk…
Though it was a special weekend at the Purple Plow (where the festival was centered), us regulars were already in our assigned bar stools by mid afternoon. A few people fluttered in and out while the band was warming up under a small circus tent, but the crowd didn’t get heavy until about 5 o’clock. The side door screeched open (as nobody ever uses that way), and in they came. All wearing black tops and denim. Made up just a little on the trashy side of life….. 9 ladies celebrating a very pregnant bride-to-be and her upcoming nuptials…..