Six random things I hate about Tulsa

At this exact moment, you’re probably on your first third coffee of the morning, have just settled down in your cubicle, and are stealthily looking over your shoulder to make sure your boss doesn’t catch you reading up on some Oklahoma chatter with us here at the Lost Ogle before you start actually being productive. Well, as you read this post, (granted it’s before noon on Tuesday), I can guarantee that at this very moment, my head is rested firmly on my keyboard, there’s a puddle of drool collecting on the IKEA desk of my fluorescent-lit office, and I may or may not be snoring at a moderate volume.

Nope, I didn’t catch a midnight showing of the Avengers, and I certainly don’t have a new boyfriend. The one bad thing about attending a play-off game when you live in Tulsa is you’ll get home roughly around 3:00am. Or at least that’s what happens to me, as my younger sister is the type who insists we go to Mickey Mantle’s after each game we attend just in case Russell Westbrook makes a cameo. I pulled exactly zero all-nighters in college. Relays for Life, church lock-ins, and even adult sleepovers aren’t things I frequently participate in because I’m the kind of girl that requires a full eight hours of horizontal time. Plus, Nick Collison is more my type, and a hottie like him probably prefers reading Malcolm Gladwell books and watching Parks and Rec in the buff on his 500+ thread count sheets in his mansion after games. At least that’s what he was doing in that dream I had about him a couple night ago.

Anyways, I’m not going to complain about missing out on a little sleep due to attending a playoff game, because that would be just weird. The somewhat inconvenient drive to the City is hardly something a Tulsan should complain about, especially when we have these real issues to bitch about instead. And before any of you T-Towners get whiny on me, remember I wrote this list on awesome things about Tulsa a few weeks ago.

Check out the list after the jump!

1. The extremely narrow streets in Midtown. And when I say narrow, I mean the kind of narrow where the only people who have a chance at passing anyone are those on bicycles or driving Mini Coops. To this day, I flinch whenever I’m in the left lane and a car going the opposite direction drives by. I replace the tires on my mid-sized SUV far more often than well, any other person in the world does. Some people believe this is because I’m a female, or because I’m half Chinese, or the perfect storm of both of these characteristics plus my inability to pick a song on Spotify Premium. The truth is though, I pop more curbs than a drunk 16-year-old because the goddamn streets are 8 feet wide.

2. The Arkansas River. I can’t think of a sight that’s more foul, except perhaps the trailer park I rescued my Chihuahua from in Pawhuska. I mean, look at it:

No amount of giant penguins or lush vegetation along Riverside Drive will help disguise this mess.

3. Entering and exiting the Broken Arrow Expressway. I’ve gotten a handful of speeding tickets along this highway, but generally, I’m pretty grateful for this turnpike. I mean, it did encourage urban sprawl, facilitating the classic spatial mismatch dilemma in dear old Tulsey Town. (Economics jokes, see what I did there?)

Anyway, our forward-thinking forefathers discounted the fact that it takes more than twelve feet to speed up to and slow down from 65 miles per hour. I’m very thankful that it only takes me twenty minutes to get across town to my day job, but I think I’d enjoy my morning commute a lot more if I I had less frequent brushes with death.

4. McSouthTulsa. If a nuclear holocaust occurred and archaeologists one hundred years from now were looking for the most pristine example of an all-American suburb, Tulsa between 111th and 71st street would be the perfect subject. The brick and stucco houses, retention ponds, and Bradford Pear trees…the Applebee’s, Arby’s, and Outback’s…the Walmarts, Targets, and oh, the QuikTrips! It’s like, a perfect replica of the kind of neighborhoods the creators of The Sims wanted you to create. South Tulsa is my home turf and I haven’t turned into a weird downtown snob or anything, but honestly, a couple Mom n’ Pop establishments in the area wouldn’t hurt a thing.

5. The unfriendly hipsters in the Brady District. I was once forcibly removed from  Soundpony for entering whilst wearing Sperrys. That’s not really true. Instead, the 5-foot bouncer chick wearing a tiny Kermit the Frog t-shirt and jelly sandals just rolled her eyes before handing my ID back to my and let me inside. All the people who shower infrequently, wear vests on the reg, and believe gentrification is an abomination of the highest degree all congregate at the bars surrounding Cain’s–you’ve been warned. You can find friendly alternative people at the Blue Dome District, or milling around Cherry Street on Saturday mornings.

6. North Tulsa. Every mid-sized city has their version of Pride Rock’s elephant grave yard (a Disney reference, clever right?) but Tulsa’s dark side is littered with more than just barred windows and babies in dumpsters. I’m guessing Tulsans that read this blog probably only go to North Tulsa for one of three reasons: a) to take a child to the zoo, b) to go to or from the airport, or c) to eat at White River Fish Market. In the land where apartment fires are commonplace, we have a little epidemic knows on methamphetamine to thank for this vile district that South Tulsans and Midtowners alike do not speak of.

Follow Chelsea on Twitter at @xCawoodstock