Oh man, I forgot to write about the thing that made me realize how much I missed Texas.

On Friday night, a pick-up truck drove across an intersection and dropped three folding picnic tables in the intersection. The truck behind them stopped. The two guys got out, picked up the tables and helped the girls in the first truck load back up. Two guys got of the truck behind them and came around to see if they could help. I was one of six cars trying to turn left through the intersection, but none of us could move until the road was clear. Eventually, only the truck with the tables, the car in front of mine, and my car were the only vehicles that made it through that green light.

What's so unusual about that? Not a single person honked, cursed, or made rude gestures at anyone at anytime. People were helpful. People were patient. People realized that they'd be delayed by a minute, maybe two.

If this happened here, in the New York City area, there would be people laying on the horn. Lots of shouting. Probably some curse words. I doubt anyone would've gotten out their cars to assist the ladies. I'm certain that someone would try to drive around the scattered tables while the two gals were trying to reload the truck.

That's when I realized I wanted to move back to Texas soooo badly.

-Faux "Texans are friendly" Pas