One more for the road...

I was on the Strip Saturday night, the last time I'll ever be there as an official local resident. I was standing at the bar ordering a drink when I had this approximate conversation with a girl seated to my left:

she: "You're tall. How tall are you?"

me: "Six-six."

she: "That's tall. Where are you from?"

me: "Louisville, Kentucky."

she: "Is everybody from Kentucky tall?"

me: "No, I'm the only one."

(Yes, in print she seems completely vapid; but in her defense, she did have some awesome tit-tays).

she: "I'm drunk...don't pay attention to me, I'm drunk. I'm short and I'm drunk."

me: "I'm on my way to drunk. (pause) Where are you from?"

she: "New Mexico."

me: "Is everyone from New Mexico short?"

she: (changing the subject) "Who lives in Kentucky anyways?"

me: "Just myself, my family, and the squirrels we hunt for food."

she: (thrusting her beer at my top shelf margarita in a pathetic attempt at toasting) "Here's to (unintelligible drunk chick banter)."

me: "Here's to people of all heights living as one."

She laughed, probably not at what I said but because a beer bubble went up her nose, and then her friends came by and wisked her off to karaoke or bikini bull riding or whatever.

Here's to you, short big-tittied drunk stupid girl from New Mexico. At least you were friendly, and hell...maybe you're a genius when you're sober, I don't know. I do know that I'll never run into your kind in Louisville. Every once in a while someone will come down for the weekend from Indiana or Ohio, but tourist-wise that's about it. Most of my short big-tittied drunk stupid girl conversations will be with locals from now on, for better or for worse.