The Sunday Rush Hour.
Well, granted that the trousers of Texas are ably supported by the Bible Belt, a fact of which I was aware before we moved here, but I had not imagined the scenes we encounter here, every Sabbath day.
Near where we live, there is a vast, unused car park. We wondered about the sign on it: Overflow parking. Overflow for what?! What could need such huge parking lot? Well, come Sunday, as we crawled along the packed roads in our minivan (ahem!), we had definitely gone down the rabbit hole.
The overflow parking was overflowing, the three or four-lane roads had tiny traffic cones delineating each lane. The state troopers were out, holding traffic up so that Mr and Mrs Respectable of Plano could traipse across the road to get safely to Church. The overflow parking is about 50 yards from the Church in question. There is a shuttle bus to take people from one to the other!!
Everyone is decked out as if they were going to the theatre, or to a dinner. Tottering along, fresh powder trailing after the white ladies’ faces, and the sun glinting from the oiled hair of the men.
And that’s just the one on the southwest corner of our street. I haven’t mentioned the other 25 within easy distance of our home.
You know you are in the bible belt when there are more churches than starbucks.
Sunday morning is a great time to use any local amenities, as they are largely deserted.