Top Five Things I Miss About Michigan

Here are the top five things I miss about Michigan:


1. Liquor laws.
Here in Rhode Island, all liquor and beer sales are done at designated stores, not supermarkets or stop ‘n shops. Convenience stores are no longer convenient on account of their not being able to carry my drug of choice. Not only am I required to frequent these opiate dens in order to purchase my stash, but they can only legally sell to me until 10pm nightly, with nothing ado after 6pm on Sundays (if at all). To top this shit off, bars can only serve until 1pm Sun-Thur, and Friday and Saturday at their discretion.

Why, in these times of war and woe, have they reduced me to a common sot. Being one who would put themselves out in order to slug off the sweet teat of God in a vain effort to lull the demons, I find it nonetheless degrading to have to seek out these hidden bootleggers in order to receive my fix. In a city of Asian spas (read: $120 dollar shower, massage and BJ) and vibrant nightlife, no one should be subjected to such totalitarian oppression when merely wanting to taste the sweet juices of freedom.

2. Dunkin’ Donuts
I speak not of missing this particular franchise. Instead, I am bewildered at its presence. There is a DD within a two-minute drive from wherever you are. In fact, the premier event arena of the state is aptly name the Dunkin’ Donuts Center. My coworkers are virtually addicted. I have even found myself on two occasions to have left my house, en route to work, only to be sucked in by it’s comforting logo (orange and pink; the only good donuts) and promise of a coffee that isn’t the tar-pit taste of a Starbuck’s signature flavor: Satan Roast Medium Columbian Blend.

Although I am not staunchly opposed to their #5 bacon, egg and cheese bagel with coffee, I am disgusted by their tactless saturation. Give me my Round’s and Potter’s and I’ll live a full life.

3. Traffic
People here drive like they are twenty minutes late for a fucking abortion and they aren’t sure which lane to be in, plus riding your bumper like it’s the next best thing since Furby®.

When I’m driving the speed limit and talking on my phone, don’t ride my ass and make the pinky/thumb gesture at me as though I’m the reason you’re having a rough life. I’d drive better if I was watching the road and not checking to see if you’re in my goddamned trunk yet. Want advice? Leave one minute earlier tomorrow and I won’t be there.

Not that Michigan drivers are better, but at least I can handle the dilapidated Broughams and Sunday ten-under drivers with an ounce of patience.

4. Smoking
I’m a smoker. Fuck you for judging me. I am a person who requires a cigarette with my adult beverages, much like a fapper requires lotion with his adult movies. Is it so bad to have a smoking section in a building? What is the harm in smoking publicly that isn’t equal to a nonsmoker microwaving in plastic or dying textiles with 1-Amino-2, 4-dibromoanthraquinone? Exactly. In layman’s terms, daddy needs a smoke when he’s drinking “wake-up-with-the-mistake” juice.

Oh, and the over-seven dollars for my Parliaments can kiss my ass as well.

5. Friends

I miss you assholes. Of all the things that complete me, the last part I thought would be a factor was the development of my long-gestated relationship with the people and places that make up Traverse City. I miss the familiar faces, the pine-scented nights, even the faux-comfort that rides sidesaddle with small town living.

But nothing beats the soul-enriching value of the pure diversity that a large American city offers.

For all of you still arrested by your environment, spend one day with me here in the salty East. All it takes is one glance of the city-scape at dusk to remind you that there is a great purpose and that it exists somewhere outside of your peripherals. It took me finally walking away from the familiar to find what is truly beautiful in the unknown: possibility. And it is that possibility that will ultimately propel me into the future I have always yearned for.