Asheville Sucks. Go Home.
Derek is saying goodbye to his fling with the Windy City. When he asked his readers about their relationships with their current locales, I knew my response was too long for his comment section. (Pretty proud of myself for realizing that, as I often write novellas as comments…)
The post title is my favorite local bumper sticker. “If it’s tourist season, why can’t we shoot them?” is a close second.
It isn’t that we hate tourists. We are, after all, the Paris of the South, and we rock some Southern hospitality. Asheville just makes a possessive lover out of you, despite your best intentions.
Living in western North Carolina was a long time dream of mine. I spent my late teens and early twenties in a friends-with-benefits relationship with these mountains. The ex and I would load the car and drive up here from Atlanta. We were all over the rivers, trails, campgrounds and fire roads like a man’s hands wander a woman’s body. After spending a few days all wrapped up in her, we remorsefully limped back to whichever cookie cutter Atlanta suburb we inhabited at the moment.
In the fall of 2004, things got very serious very quickly. We were offered an opportunity to commit. We happily took the plunge and put a ring on her finger. Two years later, we said our vows (via one hell of a mortgage payment).
Asheville has all the beauty and charm of a A-list debutante, but the humility and friendliness of the girl next door.
In the midst of the Blue Ridge Parkway, Smoky Mountain National Park, and hundreds of thousands of acres of National Forest and State Park land lies a small-town city: big enough to satisfy any culinary, cultural or material need you might have, but small enough to remember your name.
Being a member of this community fills my heart with pride. We are the first and only Foodtopian Society. What does that mean? It means that when I go to Bouchon, the owner engages me in a passionate discussion about the varieties of local organic tomatoes he’s using, and I know as I drive home afterward that my dinner helped to support the farms I admire on my daily commute as well as the local economy. It means that one polite email can get you a copy of the Squash Casserole recipe from the folks at Early Girl Eatery. It means that when you live in Asheville, you go out to eat even if your power bill is overdue, and you don’t go to Applebee’s.
Asheville is a place where having a good time with social media mavens is almost always for a good cause. Where we aren’t afraid to go all New Orleans once a year. Where your neighbors plow your driveway for you, and the volunteer fire department rescues cute girls stranded in snowstorms. Where the owners of the wine bar send over birthday tortes and specialty bookstores make dreams come true. When women help women find pleasure without unwanted attention or discomfort. Where my accounting professor owns a dog bakery. Where we’re damn proud of our beer, so much so that sweet ladies on Twitter attempt to convert me to beer drinking. Where the blogging community welcomes you with open arms, even if you aren’t a mommyblogger.
If I were forced to end my love affair with this area, with Asheville and the surrounding bedroom communities? We’re talking Casablanca-level nostalgia. Forever and always.
6 comments
Sounds fabulous.
Plus I bet you’re a bit warmer than I am right now…
Don’t count on it. It’s 24 degrees here right now. That was our high for the day, also. :X
I’m a little late to it, but your comment about Bouchon is my high for the day! Thanks! vbb
Oh, really OP??
How odd you write this particular comment…”Where your neighbors plow your driveway for you, and the volunteer fire department rescues cute girls stranded in snowstorms. Where the owners of the wine bar send over birthday tortes and specialty bookstores make dreams come true. When women help women find pleasure without unwanted attention or discomfort.”
The fact is, that’s just the opposite in this town now.. Neighbors plowing your driveway???
Gosh, we didn’t have ONE neighbor even checking in on us, when we had that horrific snowstorm before xmas, and our lights were out for 3 whole days!
Yeah, that’s neighborly alright! Rotflol..
and firemen rescuing cute girls? Are you kidding me.. I was pretty cute back in 1993, and even the fireman out in the western part of the county claimed they couldn’t get out of their OWN driveway back in the blizzard of 1993!
Oh, and this one is SO not true at all.. This whole town has become a mecca for gross arrogant lesbians…”women helping other women without unwanted attention”
Sure buddy, whatever you want to believe! The fact is, NOW, even if you are wicked cute and female, there’s not a snowballs’ chance in hell that any str8 guy is going to speak to you, let alone smile in this town, as it’s so full of gay people or people who’ve moved in here with SO!
This town SUCKS when it comes to dating! Don’t come to Asheville if you’re straight and you’re a woman.. you’ll be miserable!
Holy shit. I’ve been blogging for years now, and this is the first negative comment I’ve ever gotten. I’m sorry you feel this way, I hate that you don’t love Asheville and WNC the way I do. I’m sorry you’ve had such a negative experience, but I have to wonder if it doesn’t have something to do with your attitude? Still, I wish you the best…
ohhhhh! welp, my hubbs and i got back from AVL last night. we love it and for years have talked about moving. we have a house here and are considering just dumping it to the first buying and living like slums if we have to at walmart as a greeter if need be. terrified about moving and not being able to find jobs. what order did you do this all in? we’re still in our early 30′s with a ton of student loans behind us from our undergrads and my grad school. (finished my mba a year ago and concerned since i cant find a new job in CHICAGO how on earth will i find one in AVL).
advice on how to jump right in and make the plunge?
don’t move there. I lived in the south and planned on heading to Asheville after my undergrad in TN. What I found was a left for dead city. I think all the trust fund hippies have moved back to their native NYC,NJ,CT, CA etc.
Check out Chattanooga if you are really trying to move to a small hip southern city.
Poor Sally, if you would only realize, nothing comes to you without you first helping others yourself!! Anger in everyday life will get you absolutely no where. If EVERYTHING around you seems to SUCK then you must look at your own self. For then you will see that it is probably you, that NOT everyone or every neighbor or every fireman, or every straight man does not want anything to with you or come rescue you because the vibe you are sounding like you give off, well people see and feel that.
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