So no pedicure. I started thinking about all the things that could go wrong with getting my toenails done here in small town USA and words like “fungus” and “ingrown toenails” kept me from braving the whole host of new nail places that have popped up here in my former hometown.

Apparently Pearsall is on its way up.

Of course, the new nail places are not the only changes to the landscape here. Thanks to the South Texas oil boom, Pearsall now has not one, but TWO restaurants named Jalisco’s. That must be some kind of record. There are also three dollar stores in a town with two grocery stores. Actually, it may be down to one grocery store – I’ll have to ask. But it was that way long before aforementioned oil boom.

So back to me – no pedicure but I did buy another pair of cute sandals and make a run to The WalMart. After WalMart there is only one thing you can do, and that’s run across the street to Sonic. And by run, I of course mean drive.

Fun fact: when I was in High School, we had an open campus, which meant no one stuck around to eat lunch. Either my Junior or Senior year (can’t remember which), I ate at that Sonic every single day. I always parked on the left side because it was a well-known fact that only gay people parked on the right. This is something I have learned to be true of most Texas small town Sonics, in varying formats. Sometimes it’s the “gay side”, sometimes it’s the “nerd side”, but there’s usually a preferred side that the locals park on. So lunch hour that year found me parked in the exact same spot, eating exactly the same meal: Number 2 cheeseburger, no onions, French Fries and a Vanilla Coke.

I would have gone home but I lived about 15 minutes from the High School. It was just too much to drive all that way then turn right around and drive back again. Besides, I needed every spare minute to complete whatever homework was due that afternoon.

My freshman year, before I could drive, I was friends with some upper classmen so I was invited to participate in a group called the Lunch Bunch. We would take turns hosting, which meant that we had a daily rotation of homes we went to. The hostess would usually provide lunch, chips, soda and (this was most important) – access to Days of Our Lives. We spent the hour discussing what was going to happen to Bo & Hope during commercial breaks, as well as whatever gossip we happened to hear at school. I considered my hour with those girls a greater part of my education than anything I learned in class.

Recently, I was flipping channels and came across an episode of Day of Our Lives. And there were all those same actors. Just older and with faces frozen from too much Botox. I couldn’t help but gawk at them for a few minutes. Then I realized the story line was exactly the same as it was in 1984.

Which, given what I have been doing these last few days, appears to be true of my life as well.