Dunnellon, Florida: Unrelenting Hellhole of Boredom, Terror and Boredom

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My very own Heart of Darkness

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"Boomtown of the 1890s!"

For the majority of coastal Floridians the middle of the state blows and no one in their right mind would live there.  It’s where all the latecomers have to live because the rest of us filled the coastal cities up during the 70s and 80s.  Some people will tell you the middle of the state is great because it’s so undeveloped and you can get a swank model home and tons of land for cheap, it’s great!  That’s a lie.  There’s a reason it’s undeveloped and land is always cheap for a reason.  Do you think we just forgot all that land was there?

Dunnellon is a shining example of why we don’t want it.  Dunnellon’s actually quite a bit nicer than most of the middle since it’s on the historic Rainbow and Withlacoochee rivers.  What that history is I neither know nor care.  It probably involves Andrew Jackson tossing papooses to alligators in retaliation for Seminole tribes harboring runaway slaves (just a guess).  Despite whatever historical importance it may have the Withlacoochee sucks.  It looks like it’s filled with Coke (the teeth rotting kind not the snortin’ kind) and it’s infested with alligators.  Enough of the damn state is infested with gators and why anyone would want to move to the most gator filled river in all of Florida is beyond me.  The Rainbow is a little bit better.  You can see to the bottom in parts and it’s supposed to be a protected manatee area, though you’ll never see one since there are so many boats around.  At least it’s prime property for the middle of the state and people will pay embarrassing amounts of money to live near it. 

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People in kayaks are like canoli for gators

I went to Dunellion against my will.  Back before my ex-boyfriend earned the ex prefix I was near obsessed with getting his hellspawn parents to stop hating me.  His mother invited us to visit their condo in Dunellion, which was a huge breakthrough considering his mother was always reminding me how my existence made baby Jesus cry.  We had plans to go to Busch Gardens but we scrapped them because telling this woman ‘no’ once would mark you for life.  Dunnellon is a long drive from home and once you get there it’s somewhat hard to tell because Dunnellon lacks all signs of civilization.  The only way you can tell is by counting the ever-growing number of Baptist churches.  Once the churches are only a block apart you’re there. 

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Pictured: all the black people in Dunnellon

My ex’s parents had a condo on the brown gator filled part of the river.  We weren’t invited to stay at the condo.  The condo is next to the only inn in all of Dunnellon but we didn’t stay there either.  Instead they booked us at a 50s era motor lodge, choosing it for it’s “character” (“character” meaning “much cheaper than the cheap and clean inn next door”).  This place sure had character and that character was a hobo from Ft. Lauderdale.  Seriously this place reeked of urine and was decorated like an episode of the Golden Girls exploded in it.  The motor lodge really went far to give you the feeling of being in the safe 50s since the door locks didn’t work.  In fact the front door didn’t close all the way.  Other enchanting features:  the air vents brought in the smoke from the neighboring room, the bathroom was so small you had to put your feet in the shower stall to fit on the toilet.  AND ROACHES!  Now I’m no stranger to the great outdoors, I don’t like roaches, ticks, leeches and spiders but they don’t freak me out.  I’m accustomed to them, the outdoors is their domain, and I dig that.  I even understand that some poor wayward roaches find their way indoors, no biggie.  However I can’t handle FLYING ROACHES, I just can’t process a flying roach landing on my head, I short circuit, flip out in a murderous rage if you will.  FLYING ROACHES landed on my head 3 TIMES!  That’s three totally different roaches and that’s just me, my ex had two of his own to deal with.  I know what you’re thinking:  “This place sounds awesome, I want to stay there too!  What’s their number?”  Sorry, for some reason no one in Dunnellon has a damn phone.

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I paid a million dollars for a key to this? Sweet!

Enough about the posh accommodations, let’s get back to what really matters, how much the town sucks.  Dunnellon is known as the “Boomtown of the 1890s” which means the last interesting thing to happen in this town was over one hundred years ago.  Well, no matter, it’s really all about the land right?  Land is at a retarded premium here.  There’s plenty of it around, but all everyone wants is land on the river.  My ex’s parents own, in addition to their Withlacoochee condo, a vacant lot.  This absurdly expensive lot gives them a key to a gate a couple miles down the road that protects a 50 ft patch of dirt along the Rainbow that they share with 49 other families.  It never occurs to anyone to use the public river access a mile down the road.  Though it often occurs to local teens to jump the fence and use the co-owned river access without owning a key.  Smartly cutting out the expensive vacant lot middleman.  There’s kayaking and tubing down the river.  If you’re going to Dunnellon you had better pick one.  Because there’s nothing else to do.

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Yes, people here are this bored. Save the Watertower!

Well that’s not entirely fair.  You could always sightsee in the historical district, several blocks of decaying slave quarters, or you could save time and just drive through the most rundown part of your town and pretend it’s historic.  My favorite part of Dunnellon is its library.  It’s very small and it’s almost exclusively Time Life series books.  There’s also a Wal-Mart on the two-lane Main St. that has a McDonalds that’s open until 3am which is the closest thing to nightlife Dunnellon has.  Sitting in the McDonalds I turned to two teens chatting at the table beside me.  “So what do you do for fun around here?”  I asked.  The girl looked at me and said with a laugh, “We’re doing it.”  So my guess, teen sex and recreational drug use on a near epidemic scale in Dunnellon.  So let's wipe Dunnellon off the map like Andrew Jackson on a squaw killing bender... for the children.