I talk a lot of crap about Lubbock. Like. A lot. I complain about things here as if they personally wronged me. I roll my eyes when I have to drive across town. I’ve said “there’s nothing to do here” at last once a week for most of my adult life. And yet, here I am.
Still here. Still defending this place when someone else talks badly…
The thing about Lubbock is that you don’t realize just how much it gets under your skin until you try to explain it to someone who has never lived here.
You can’t explain to an outsider how small the world feels here. Sometimes in a good way. Sometimes in a bad way. You run into people you know everywhere you go. The gas station. The grocery store. Somewhere you swore you wouldn’t see a soul, and there they are, and you know what? You don’t hate it as much as you think you should.
Lubbock has a really weird way of being both comforting and frustrating at the same time. It’s not flashy, and it’s not trying to impress anyone. It’s just here. Just doing its thing. Just existing in its own little bubble where people talk in line for too long, still remember you from 5 years ago, and everyone waves at you when you drive by…