There are only two classes of people in this town. Upper-Middle and Poor. There is no in-between, and there is no climbing the ladder higher. Apparently, the top rung was chopped off in the early 1900's and transported out of state. Anyway, The Upper-Middle class consists of small business owners, state DOT workers, and possibly a select few West Point Pepperell (or is it Stevens, now?) higher ups. The Poor, put plain and simple, serve the Upper-Middle class.
Chipley also has the uncategorizable folks who crawl out from under their rocks once a month to visit the SuperWalmart for supplies.
I may sound bitter, but Chipley isn't all bad. I did have some memorable experiences during my 3 year residency. I learned the joy of attending parties in the middle of the Sandhills (AKA, the woods), where I came to appreciate Bartles & James wine coolers next to a big ol' bonfire. I learned about the deliciousness of generic beer. I also learned to appreciate said beer because of the difficulty of under-age acquisition. Those were the days. Hanging out in front of the Quickway waiting for an old person to buy beer for me and my friends. Ah, the innocence of young adulthood.
Finding a boyfriend wasn't at all hard, either. I had a friend who once offered to buy me a Rolodex so I could keep up with all my guys (for it was becoming a challenge, if not downright dangerous!). You try having two panting males bring you Valentine's gifts at the same time at the local Hardee's where you were currently working! Talk about juggling! Yes, I was a wild child. I've changed a lot since then, though. I'm all partied out. Sorry, but I'm tired.
Also, about 5-10 miles away, there is another small town called Wausaw. Yes, that Wausaw (pronounced, Waw-saw). I feel the need to mention Wausaw in order to better describe the local population. Chipley gets visitors and some students from Wausaw regularly. In fact, I actually dated a guy from there. Now prepare yourselves for this next statement.
Wausaw is------officially (I think, because there's actually a sign)-------
The Possum Capital of the World
Yes, that's the way they spell it. One weekend a year, they hold the biggest event around. The Possum Festival. Believe it. There is a "beauty" contest where people strut their stuff in worn out overalls and blackened teeth (once again, this is TRUE). There is a roadkill cookoff. There is also the Possum Ball.
This is making me look bad. I'll stop now. But just in case you don't believe me,
