I hate North Carolina. With the exception of my family there (and my uncle’s girlfriend, who isn’t really family, but who I am counting anyway), I have serious doubts that anyone in the entire state understands the words “Excuse me.” I became convinced of that fact while trying to navigate the throngs of people while trying to pull off a simple feat like buying a couple of new CDs.

That’s not to mention the drivers. Apparently, all cars registered in North Carolina must have their turn signals removed in order to pass inspection. Either that, or not one person who lives there (this may or may not include all of my family, but it does apply to at least one of them) knows what those little blinking lights are supposed to signify. After getting slightly annoyed, I started paying attention. Every time I saw a turn signal activated, the car had an out-of-state tag. Changing Lanes? No signals from North Carolinians. Turning off onto another road? No signals. Making a freakin’ U-turn in the Interstate on-ramp while several other people are trying to get on the Interstate? No signal.

I’m home again now, and if my trip to North Carolina is indicative of how future travels will go, I’m never leaving West Virginia again.