Victory

'But what does that mean? ‘W’? What does it stand for?" Chris questions out loud. There is suspicion and defense inflected in the ‘W’.

“You know God damned well and good what the ‘W’ stands for, now shut up and bask in the shrine to consumerism and our great leader guy.”
I never talk to him like this. Especially after he’s agreed to driving out to Grapevine to spend his Sunday off with my parents.

At first Chris didn’t understand my hostility toward ‘Victory Station’ but then, he isn’t privy to the smart rush hour traffic flow like I am. His shifts start at 6am, or 2pm. At these times of the day, it’s hard to grasp what a truly modern highway engineering marvel the 35 and Woodall Rogers freeway really is. Really. Maybe that's the Dallas City Councils excuse too.

‘I mean, shouldn’t we build the infrastructure to support this mess and THEN build this monster?’ I say.
‘They did pave the road.’ He notices.

I’m sure the rest of Dallas is buzzing with talk of our city’s ‘newest urban setting’…another incredible place to eat, booze, and urinate after a long evening of sports spectatorship. Just looking forward to this ‘round the clock destination’ ‘inviting everyone in the district to enjoy its street-side shops and lounges’. Really just inviting everyone.

Everyone.