A town full of closet queers who hate anything outside of a perverted idea of normalcy. The boys wear grungy lax shorts that hang past the knees and dirt stained nike socks, paired with an unmatched sports t-shirt or jockey sweatshirt. Oftentimes they’ll forget the daily application of deodorant. The girls wear the same attire of pulled leggings or sweatpants with some variation of a push-up bra and tank top. The go-to hairstyle is a horribly constructed “messy bun” that sits at the top of their head, often leaving
randomized strands of hair out looking like they’d just come from a sweaty workout.
Overwhelming amount of raging
republicans, slurs spilling from the thin lips of the majority. Oh, and the bridge is “the place to be.” Crawling with future alcoholics, the bridge is full
to the brim on any given day. If you walk a few feet outside of the main area, you might find a few freshmen mouth fucking, or maybe someone throwing up. You might occasionally run into a group of queers, usually marked by oversized jeans and colored hair. Rockville Centre kids love weed.
