Monroe-from hobos to horny moms.
So the other week I was working my butt of doing long hours of construction with my dad. I worked with Paul and Tristan a little bit on this Papa Murphy’s in Monroe-about 45 minutes north east of Bellevue. Man is that place ever trippy. Let me tell you all of my observations.
Hobos-
Monroe has a sort of eerie feel to it. The people stare into oblivion, and at night, it feels like a poor fundamentalist description of the end of the world. People just wander at night, and there are hobos just standing in the street, or riding around in parking lots, aimlessly. My dad almost drove over one accidentally.
One night Paul and my dad were taking out the trash behind the store. It was a very dimly lit area, and they were pouring the trash into the big dumpster when they heard ruffling and looked up to see a man standing in the trash can surrendering to them. Turns out that the hobo loved to dumpster dive at 3 am.
Crazy Women (and horny moms)-
One night my dad and I were slaving away, and randomly, at 2 am a car pulls up with young women in and on it, all wearing random value village gag getups. They flash their brights, and the people who were on the car rolled off and raced into our store shouting and yelling. One of the first things they said was “WANT AN EGG?! (So and so’s name) IS GETTING MARRIED!” Shocked and taken off guard, my dad and I couldn’t help to crack a smile and engage them on their late night exertion.
The next night Paul and I were working near the store front, and a car peels by and we hear a girl whistle at us and go “WHOO WHOO!!” . Thinking that they are crazy and its just Monroe hicks, we chuckle and continue to work. But it happens again, and again. Then, the fourth time, we look up and to our surprise, there is a obese mother and she’s yipping at us, and she yells, no joke, “SHOW ME YOUR TITS!”
The people of Monroe are strange. I say that they are just bored and have nothing to do. I find this true to most small cities or isolated rural/developing areas.
This week I went down to Medford, OR to see my brother, and he told me, no joke, that he saw a fat man with cowboy boots, riding a bike, with a cowboy hat, smoking a cigarette, just coasting down the road. Not even peddling.
Point blank, don’t move to Monroe, or Medford for that matter. Stay away.
Hobos-
Monroe has a sort of eerie feel to it. The people stare into oblivion, and at night, it feels like a poor fundamentalist description of the end of the world. People just wander at night, and there are hobos just standing in the street, or riding around in parking lots, aimlessly. My dad almost drove over one accidentally.
One night Paul and my dad were taking out the trash behind the store. It was a very dimly lit area, and they were pouring the trash into the big dumpster when they heard ruffling and looked up to see a man standing in the trash can surrendering to them. Turns out that the hobo loved to dumpster dive at 3 am.
Crazy Women (and horny moms)-
One night my dad and I were slaving away, and randomly, at 2 am a car pulls up with young women in and on it, all wearing random value village gag getups. They flash their brights, and the people who were on the car rolled off and raced into our store shouting and yelling. One of the first things they said was “WANT AN EGG?! (So and so’s name) IS GETTING MARRIED!” Shocked and taken off guard, my dad and I couldn’t help to crack a smile and engage them on their late night exertion.
The next night Paul and I were working near the store front, and a car peels by and we hear a girl whistle at us and go “WHOO WHOO!!” . Thinking that they are crazy and its just Monroe hicks, we chuckle and continue to work. But it happens again, and again. Then, the fourth time, we look up and to our surprise, there is a obese mother and she’s yipping at us, and she yells, no joke, “SHOW ME YOUR TITS!”
The people of Monroe are strange. I say that they are just bored and have nothing to do. I find this true to most small cities or isolated rural/developing areas.
This week I went down to Medford, OR to see my brother, and he told me, no joke, that he saw a fat man with cowboy boots, riding a bike, with a cowboy hat, smoking a cigarette, just coasting down the road. Not even peddling.
Point blank, don’t move to Monroe, or Medford for that matter. Stay away.