Life in a Small Town Part II

Mabel looks at life in a small town (or maybe it's just a town, but not small?)

Continued from Part I

* Quebec has a lot of churches, but a lot of atheism and agnosticism to go with that. Here people seem to actually attend church, in part because lots of retirees. And much of the town shuts down on Sundays. But that's not a bad thing when you're in a service job.

* Our Member of Parliament is a Conservative who's held his seat for 12 years. My neighborhood back home is a Liberal stronghold--one of the few that survived "the Orange crush" at the last election--the crushing having been done by the party to the left of the Liberals. It's weird for me being in a Con constituency. I'm suspicious of everyone. Are my co-workers all Cons? I don't know if this reflects all the oldies, or the sort of redneckatude here. Small towns are conservative, I guess. 

* There is redneckatude. I don't say that as an insult, I just suspect there's a higher percentage of men here who could post on thereifixedit.  At home I lived in a well-to-do white suburb and worked at a bookstore where 90% of staff are university students. But that's not great either. So I'm enjoying the workingclassesqueness for now. And there's a higher chance I'll meet Terry and Deaner.

(This is kind of the accent here. And I've caught myself doing it.)

A girl my dad knows would sometimes get discouraged because she felt her pro-gay/transgender activities weren't looked on as Quite the Thing. My dad told her: "You need to meet someone other than Christians." And assured her that she'd meet some of her peeps when she went away to school in Vancouver.

My first or second day on the job my supervisor looked at this red bike we got in and said: "It's nice but I'd feel like a faggot riding that around town." I was so startled I couldn't protest. I finally said: "But I'd feel like Pee Wee Herman!" Well, we'll leave the politicizing 'til they get to know me better. 

(And I should mention the ladies at the bookstore represent the other end of the spectrum--that reads a lot, and knows their Canadian lit, and I'd bet they're small-L liberal.)

* Everyone I work with is super nice, which is most, most important to me. But we don't have quite the same sense of humor. I held up a freaky looking clown doll to my supervisor and said "Wouldn't this give you nightmares?" and now he thinks I'm afraid of clowns. I was expecting him to start back in fear, which is what my brother would do. Or say "What the fuuuck?" which Gilby would do. Or say "Okay... that's just disturbing" which Vidal would do. Or say "Stop it--you're giving me nightmares" which Maewitch would do. Instead he said: "I knew another girl who was afraid of clowns."

Mind, they probably don't think I'm a barrel of laughs either. I'm always reading.

And to be fair, the full-timer woman I work with, we have some things in common. And in other Nanaimo news, there is Harvey.

* People offer strangers lifts when they realize they'll have trouble getting their stuff home. At least in my store they do. (My customers are really patient, nice people.) There are lots of nice people back home, but most men wouldn't offer lifts to the ladies precisely because they'd be Suspicioned. I've been offered lifts (back in Mtl) but didn't take them--except once from a female couple.

Really it's so gorgeous here, if my heart wasn't back in Montreal, I'd be fine. But today I saw a wee puppy and it made me miss my cats so much I wanted to jump the next flight home. (I settled for crying in my bedroom. I didn't even have cookies!) In the meantime I try to imagine I'm living one of these Northern Exposure type shows. And just enjoy the ride.