If you’ve ever driven through the dried up sunken remnant of the slaver economy that is Person County, NC, you know that you don’t want your car to break down. You want the bus driver to keep going even if he spins a couple of smoldering tires off into the midden of liquor bottles and mango flavored cigar wrappers defining the right-of-way. You know that behind every trailer door crowded up against the highway is a scene John Boorman left on the cutting room floor of Deliverance “because it was just too fackin’ squicky, mate.”

These are the 10 Most Miserable Cities in NC

 

You know that you’ve never seen so many rebel flags since you just drove through Danville,VA, the next biggest steaming shithouse up the road. You’ve never had bank tellers or little old white lady convenience store clerks scan you for signs of being an outsider-like having hair not teased up into a fundamentalist breeder queen tent, or a set of teeth you cant slide a cigarette through.

What you might not not know is how it came to this. How does Person County and its sole conurbation of auto parts stores, pork rind flavored pizza wallows, skeevy lawyer boltholes, and lake trash jet-ski bonin’ shacks remain stuck in the 1920’s in defiance of the laws that govern the expansion of the universe and thermodynamics.

Two reasons.

1.Inbreeding.
Ain’t nobody come heah much, and iffen they do, we’s as likely to run ’em off or kill ’em as we are to try and get a baby on ’em. Specially if they go on with that purty Yankee talk.

2.Education is like platinum.
You ain’t going to find it here.

If the mopes who slide their asses on the Xerox machine at the local paper are any indication of the quality of the schools, the motto of Person County is in stiff competition between “Abandon hope all ye who enter here” and “Back away slowly and you might not wake its stupid cross-eyed ass up.”

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