A sorta crappy short story type thing by Keith Birthday
this was really the best street view I could find.....
This is Hatfield, Pennsylvania.
Nestled in the southeastern corner of the state, Hatfield boasted a population of around 2,500 and covered a total area of 0.6 square miles. The folks there enjoyed a peaceful, simple suburban life. There was a wal-mart, a mall, and many popular chain stores nearby. Hatfield was also home to the somewhat famous meatpacking/hot dog company. Often people affectionately referred to the town as ‘the home of the smiling porker’ in reference to the meatpacking factory’s logo (although they recently changed it to this ‘sunshine thing‘ in order to draw attention away from all the ‘pig killing’ they do). On warm, sunny days, it was possible to smell the meat rendering plant from as far as two miles away. It wasn’t a pleasant smell, but it smelled like home. Children (like myself) enjoyed growing up in this town (actually the town over, but close enough).
this pig is happy cause he has a death wish
The town was not as young as most would think, incorporated in 1898. So, in 1998, in order to celebrate their centennial, Hatfield decided to manufacture commerative sweatshirts. These boasted a fancy design featuring a train in three vibrant colors: red, yellow, and black. The design was so nice that it maybe could have been the town seal, but I’m not actually sure about that. The people went crazy for the sweatshirts, almost everyone in town had one, including one of my parents (not sure if mom, or dad, but I know there was one in my house growing up). Everyone proudly wore their hatfield borough shirts in the streets, declaring their undying love for the town. Of course, the sweatshirts also loved the attention bestowed upon them, and took it upon themselves to be as bright and beautiful as they knew how. All but one, of course.
memorize that blurry sign, questions later
This one sweatshirt had greater aspirations, he wanted to travel, to see the world, and to become something more that just a commemerative sweatshirt. So, late at night, he decided to sneak out of the sweatshirt storage facility and stole away on a boat headed for a distant land/country/continent.
This is where the tale gets uncertain. But this we know: for many years, the sweatshirt traveled all over the globe, visiting many sights and seeing many things. Even though he was made of a strong 50/50 poly-cotton blend, he began to become weary of traveling, and decided it was time to settle down. He made the decision that the next place he would stop would be his resting place. He waiting until the next stop on his train, and exited onto the platform. The problem was, the signage was in a strange language/alphabet he didn’t understand, he tried desperately, but he couldn’t make the words out.TOMCK? WTF? HOW DO U SAY TOMCK? TOMK?
the C is an S, silly sweatshirt.
He approached a sly looking man, and asked him ‘could you plz tell me where I am?’ the man looked at him and said ‘Смотри! Он умеет говорить!’ and snatched the sweatshirt into a bag and stole away with him into the night.
The next thing the sweatshirt knew, he found himself in a strange place with other clothing from bygone eras. He hoped that someone there would be able to understand him. He asked a backpack next to him, who replied in a strong German accent ‘You are in Siberia, Ver it iz wery cold. Ze willage is called Tomsk.’ The sweatshirt barely had time to react, when a pair of hands snatched him off the shelf. He noticed the hands were soft and delicate with dainty fingers. Then a soft, melodic voice washed over him, it sounded much like the man at the train station but much more pleasant. He felt happy and content, and didn’t even notice being stuffed into a bag and taken elsewhere.
He awoke to find himself being worn on the torso of a girl, who treated him very kindly. She wore her newfound sweatshirt with pride, and everyone admired her, for it was such a lovely sweatshirt. So lovely, that it caught the eye of a young gentleman in the hallway, who happened to be born in the next town over so long ago. He approached her and asked ‘where did you find this sweatshirt?’, to which she replied ‘In a second-hand store, of course.’ He then explained that this was a small town, a very small town next to where he was born in the suburbs of Pennsylvania, and that seeing this sweatshirt so far from that town was quite remarkable. He was so flabbergasted by the notion that he asked her if he could take a picture in order to remember this moment, and she obliged.
Effin' blew my mind
(PS- I honestly can’t believe that this really happened, can’t believe that somehow that sweatshirt somehow made it all the way from Hatfield, PA to Tomsk, Russia.)
