I lived in Midwest City for about three years during the early 2000s. Even though I had some fun when I lived there (early 20s, college days, pre-weight gain), it probably wasn't the best place to call home. This was because there was really nothing to do except workout at the gym, drink at a dive bar, or join a gang.
To make matters worse, when I lived there I always felt like I was going to be accidentally bombed by one of those low flying AWACS planes. Those things were so fucking loud. I'm pretty sure the pilots placed bets each morning to see who could fly closet to the ground without crashing. And they never stopped, too. They just flew around in circles all day with no clear purpose other than to drive people nuts and ruin telephone conversations.
Seriously, one of my best friends — we'll call him Josh Pettit — lived across the street from the Midwest City YMCA and only a couple miles away from my house near 15th and Air Depot. This is how our typical phone conversations usually went. Remember, this was before modern society conducted all communication via text messages, emails and Facebook status updates:
Me: "What's up. Want go to Bricktown 54? It's 21 to enter tonight."
Josh: "Hold on one sec, one of those planes is about to fly over."