I make no secret of the fact that I dislike Waco. I'm a city girl through and through and I miss real shopping, real restaurants and movie theaters built after 1985. Yes, I can get almost anything I need in Waco, but I miss a lot of my vapid, pointless wants, like any trip to Crate & Barrel turns out. (I don't NEED a compressed bamboo cutting board - but do I have one? Yes, yes I do.)
But there's one moment where I feel at home in Waco outside of the confines of law school. That moment? When I cross the street to go into my bank.
I bank at Bank of America and if you know Waco, you know that the one here is actually in an attractive building across the square (I call it "square" because it sounds better than "parking lot") from the sole beauty of Waco, the courthouse. It has a little brick walkway to lead people from the "square" to the bank itself. Sometimes cars stop for you and let you walk across the little two lane road. When I do cross, as I did today, I feel like I'm in one of those quaint little towns that has a population of 124 and where trees turn colors in the fall and there's a phone tree to tell you when school has a snow-day instead of having to listen to the morning news. Apparently, I have some tiny-town girl inside of my city girl facade. And so I enjoy my moments of walking into the bank and think that maybe I should move to some tiny little Pennsylvania or Vermont town and be one of two or three lawyers handling stuff like wills for the apple farmer down the street and representing the only "criminal" in town, the village drunk. And I want it to be called a "village", because that sounds nice.
Then I snap out of it and laugh a little to myself.
1 comment:
I feel that way when I watch Gilmore Girls...especially episodes when it is "fall" on the set.
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