Why I love my town

The boys, my wife, and I went out to eat tonight. We usually eat early, mostly because I get hungry early, but also because the boys go to bed by 7:30 or 8. Anyway, we had a little shopping to do, so we decided to sandwich our dinner in between two stops we had to make. We decided to eat Mexican food because we had a coupon for a certain restaurant that we like okay (go figure). Anyway, we get there and we're like one of only two families in the place. Which is good. That means better service for me. In theory.

So we discuss what looks good, and what we have to do to get the benefit of the coupon.

I decide what I want and my bride makes her choice as well. Within a few minutes the server appears at our table with her pen and pad to take our requests. Here's how it happened:

"We'll have the chicken strips for Brayden, and he will have macaroni and cheese," says Kate, pointing in Brantley's general direction. The server nodded and continued to write. "I want the tacos, but do I have to get refried beans?" (Because other forms of beans with pork fat are so much healthier) It was obvious that this was not the first time that a customer had asked that question. The server put on her best smile and replied, "No, we have 'free-holies'- ya' know- soupy beans?"  (You have to imagine the long country drawl that she spoke with.)

"Free-holies?" I thought to myself. "Where are we?"

Well, we eventually got our meal, frijoles and all. Turned out pretty good, those beans did- don't care what you call 'em. 

And that's why I like living here. You can go for a night in the town, and talk like you just came out of the cornfields and it's not abnormal.