Nebraska Smells Like . . .
“Sorry if I’m talking too fast, I’m from New York,” the x-ray technician said. “I listen to audiobooks at 2X speed,” I assured her. As though not hearing me, she continued. “You southern people have a hard time keeping up with us New Yorkers.” " I’m from Nebraska.” “Nebraska? You don’t hear that very often.” I gave her a well-practiced Nebraskan response. “Nope.” This woman wore the state of New York like a badge of honor. Her voice was loud enough to carry over a dozen honking taxis, and her personality could have pushed over the Statue of Liberty. “Have you been in a car accident?” she asked. I wasn’t sure where this was going. “No.” “Experienced some sort of blunt force trauma?” Other than this conversation? “No. I grew up riding horses.” “Oh, that explains it. Don’t you feel how this shoulder is higher than the other?” She placed her hand on my right shoulder. I shrugged. “Not really.” “Well it is. Your body hunches over to the left.” I’d have to take her word for it....