There’s a city in Rhode Island called Woonsocket that I’ve been intrigued by since before I moved here. Initially it was because it sounds Dr. Seussian, now it’s because people are telling me not to go there. My landlady works there, as does her boyfriend, and I mentioned to both of them (at different times) that I had never been. Both scoffed identically and said, “there’s really no reason to go to Woonsocket unless you have to.”

Then, at job #2, boss lady mentioned she had had to go to Woonsocket recently. A co-worker asked “Did you drive fast your car?” This intrigued me, so I probably made an interrogative noise like “bah?” I was told that Woonsocket has a large French-Canadian population who talk funny– kind of Dr. Seussian.

Of course this heightened the intrigue.

Every time I say to someone “I’ve never been to Woonsocket.” They say something along the lines of “Don’t go.” Now it seems forbidden, and the brat in me wants to make a special trip there just to spite people. “Yeah, I spent a day in Woonsocket– and it was amazing!” Then there’s the other side of me that worries, maybe Woonsocket really is not worth visiting, and if I do go, I’ll end up hating it as much as I hate Warwick (man, I hate Warwick). Is it better to keep it magical in my head, or to just get over it?


After doing some web-based research, I found that there is another Woonsocket in America. It’s in South Dakota, and named after the Woonsocket in Rhode Island (cause, seriously) so I grew up about 6.5 hours from Woonsocket and never even knew it! Oh man. It seems that all the signs are saying I must go, but I’m so torn.