the perfect picture of white trash

So this is completely random, but it came to me as a vivid memory for some reason today, and I felt the need to recount it. So here goes:
I was home in cleveland a few summers ago, and decided to go to the drive-in movie with my parents (I think it may in fact be the last drive-in that actually still operates). We were seeing pirates of the caribbean II, for which I was not too enthused, but regardless of the film the people watching was priceless. It all began when we pulled up in an area without yet a lot of people. It slowly began to fill up and next thing I knew this old, brown, low-rider, Buick pulled up in front of us. I was pretty excited to see what or who would emerge from the vehicle, as their car was impressive in its own right. It only got better as I watched the scene unfold before my eyes. First three little grungy kids jumped out and began to pile their blankets and pillows onto the hood of the car. This was interesting, but then it got even better when the "mother" (I quote it as I am making an assumption) emerges from the passenger seat. SHE is priceless, SHE was worth the entrance fee. Now begins how I try to explain the perfect symbol of white trash with the most admiration possible...
First emerges a pale leg with no shoes on, followed by a more bare leg nearly all the way to the top (at which point I begin wondering if she is wearing any pants). Then I release my breath as I see the brownish blue fringe on the edge of a cut-off pair of daisy dukes. She emerges in entirety with bare feet, daisy dukes mostly covered by an oversized wife-beater that was a lovely shade of gray and some amazing dollar store sunglasses. At this point my night was complete, but it only continued to get better. She turns around to open up her lawn-chair and the rear of her daisy dukes are a lovely brown/yellow color over the faded blue jean (ya know, as if they had seen better and cleaner days). She sits in her chair for a moment, and I think that it's really over, I've seen all she has to offer. But no, she then sits back in the passenger seat for a moment with the door open and reaches in the glove box for a pack of cigarettes (not a conaisseure so I don't know the brand) but she emerges with a long skinny brown cigarette with a white plastic filter on the end. (p.s. I've always wondered what the hell that thing is "filtering.") She proceeds to sit back, relax and smoke it. She seems content, but evidently that was a misjudgement on my part because she then reaches over to the door pocket and pulls out a magazine. I now payed closer attention as I figured it had to be a top quality trash magazine (that I would take as a very strong recommendation for my next purchase), and lucky for me, she didn't let me down. It was not only a junk magazine but THE junk magazine: The Enquirer. Exactly as it looks in the check-out line, black and white, big bold letters across the top, and the most ridiculous pictures (the ultimate displays of amateur photoshop users).
So here I was, watching the most amazing scene unfold before my eyes, from the wife-beater and daisy dukes all the way to The Enquirer...So I sat back in my admiration and wondered, really? does it get any better than this? forget the movie, this was the most perfect human I have ever witnessed to this day. She was purebred white trash, born and raised, and she crossed the i's and dotted the t's on every stereotype that was ever created about who she was and what she stood for. It was pure, it was real and it was priceless...Thank you drive-in movies, for bringing the best audiences ever. (what does that say about me?)