The only thing my little snobby suburbia is known for (besides the Entwhistle murders) is the Boston Marathon.
Yep, my town is the size of a postage stamp, has no chain pharmacy or supermarket but we are the starting point for the world famous race.
What this means to me is I have to waste a vacation day because there is no getting out of my town. Sinewy freaks will be peeing on all the lawns on main street, turning all the grass brown (I actually think that is kind of funny)..we are transformed into a kind of Bourbon Street meets bulimia convention. Body fluids and crinkled paper cups everywhere. New crews and reporters and general chaos. Fun stuff.
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