FEELINGS INSIDE AN EMPTY BAR IN AN ABANDONED TOWN

Had the occasion this week to watch basketball with my dad in an off-season Tahoe bar. Felt all the feelings.
  1. 1.
    Lonesome for every man I've ever loved.
    I am the queen of productive melancholy in empty bars.
  2. 2.
    Am I more a Mountain Wife or a Basketball Player's Wife?
    🗻 vs 🏀 Discuss.
  3. 3.
    I once said if I could have one wish—aside from world peace—it would be to have a tongue like a Jackson chameleon so that I could dip it in salt and then drink a marg in the same second.
    It was 2010 and I was at the East Village Dallas BBQ. There's a video of it somewhere.
  4. 4.
    What if I drank like 5 margs.
    I LIKE TEQUILA. (But am totally not a drinker.)
  5. 5.
    My dad engages with every game of basketball like it's life or death.
    He swears and laughs and throws air punches and totally lives out loud and it's amazing.
  6. 6.
    THIS IS THE BEST FUCKING CHILE RELLENO I'VE EVER HAD AND I NEED NOTHING MORE, EVER.
    It's battered and fried and ENORMOUS and oozing jack cheese and black beans and grilled corn.
  7. 7.
    Who would I be if I lived here?
    In this tiny town that everyone abandons for months on end.
  8. 8.
    Would I be married to a mountain man within the week and have children swaddled in non-ironic flannel?
    Is that my fate? IS IT???
  9. 9.
    Do people come to this town to live or to die?
    And is this a fundamental distinction by which we can separate the geography of the world? 💅🌌⚡️🔮👻