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A Yankee Girl Goes South
The Southern heart is too impulsive; Southern hospitality is too lavish with the stranger. — Mark Twain, The Spirit of Tennessee Journalism
During my university years, I decided to spend a Spring Break visiting friends in Georgia. After the final class of the term, I packed up my Ford Escort and headed down I95 for my first trip ever into the “Deep South”.
My friends were working when I arrived, so they left a note in their mailbox. They said the house key was under the welcome mat and to see the neighbor if I needed anything.
Wow! People leave keys under the mat in real life? Yeah, welcome thieves, I thought. The hair stood up on the back of my New York neck.
Sure enough, there was a shiny key under the mat.
Just as I was turning that key in the lock, I heard a “Hey there!”
Ugh, I thought, the neighborhood watch program is going to think I am breaking and entering, what with my Yankee license plates and all.
But instead, I was handed a basket of warm muffins from Dolly, who thought I might get a little hungry before my friends got home.
After a refreshing shower (and more than a few delicious muffins), I decided I would make dinner. Upon perusing the cupboards, it became obvious that I needed a shopping trip first. So I…
