Not where I grew up, but where I live now.
The place suffers from Small Town Syndrome, everyone knows everyone else. A few years ago there was a sudden leap in cases of HIV/AIDS (I always forget which comes first). Because everyone knows everyone's business, the whole town instantly knew who was to blame. It was obviously her, she's shagged everyone, spring-loaded legs, blah blah blah.

Turns out they were wrong. It was someone who'd come on holiday and slept with dozens of people over the course of a month.

Life's a bitch, eh?
KIDS! USE PROTECTION!
(Paolo Nutini's Bikini Better than Frederick Fleet's optometrist, Fri 15 Jan 2010, 19:39, 1 reply, 16 years ago)

That poor bloody woman!
I hope she got her own back by giving them all ebola or sommat.
(TheSnark oh, c'mon, like you didn't see me coming, Fri 15 Jan 2010, 21:07, Reply)

Um. No.
She died about six months later of an alcohol-related illness. And this being a Small Town, everyone instantly stood up to say how upset they were, and how lovely a person she was.

I never pretended to be her best mate, but we always said hello and nodded in the street. She was a lovely girl and I never said a bad word about her.

That's the worst thing about Small Towns with Small Town Syndrome. They're often full of selfish arsemongers.
(Paolo Nutini's Bikini Better than Frederick Fleet's optometrist, Sat 16 Jan 2010, 2:48, Reply)