veg4me

veg4wicker

Did you hear the headline on the news about the woman who was newly transplanted to North Carolina and went apeshit in the local Goodwill, throwing wicker chairs through the glass doors?

Well, there's only one reason you didn't hear about it. That same woman summoned the last bit of self control she had stored away after spending two weeks listening to people talk like this and like this.

Looking back on it now, I don't know what came over me. Sure, I understand why my blood pressure reached "fried food every night" level, but what possessed me to want a wicker set? What am I? Some kind of Southern Belle sitting in a satin, pink, poofy gown on my front porch? Do I have buckets of sweet tea sitting at the ready for the much anticipated time when a gentleman caller arrives?

Yes, I have a wrap around porch on my house. It's of majestic proportions. Feet upon feet of space dying to be embellished with wicker and rocking chairs. However, at heart I am a wrought iron kind of girl who found herself at Goodwill thinking "Wicker! I love wicker!" when I laid eyes on a 3 piece set.

All the love left my body about 2 minutes later when I asked the manager if he would assist me in carrying the loveseat out to my truck to see if it would fit before I paid for it.

"Ma'am...I am afraid I can't do that"

Turns out that Goodwill's policy of spreading Goodwill stops at the door. He informed me that I had 3 days to pick up the merchandise after I paid for it, so don't worry if it doesn't fit in the truck. Yes, of course! I see your reasoning! If this loveseat doesn't fit today, I can try again tomorrow! Golly, that'd be fun. I can taste the Heinz 57 sense of anticipation when I roll up in front of the brick building, 3 days in a row, only to leave minutes later, totally defeated when Surprise! The loveseat still doesn't fit!

Not one to give up without a fight, I don my mental boxing gloves and tell the man that today is the only day I have to pick up this set of wicker.

"Ma'am...(ohmygod this is such a long pause please speak!)..I can help you carry the items to your vehicle if you sign a release stating that I am not responsible if something happens to your items once they enter the parking lot."

I glance outside and see 2 elderly women with Blueblockers making their way across the lot and a young mom with way too many kids. 300 feet away two cars sit at a traffic signal.

"I'll take my chances, give me the form!"

"Welllll........Ma'aaaaaaammmmm...you are not allowed to sign the form until the merchandise is paid for"

Inside my head a tiny bell dings, signifying the beginning of another round of mental fancy footwork.

"Okay, so I have to stand in line, pay for the items, sign the release form and then you will help me carry the items out to my truck ( I can lift the two chairs just fine, but the loveseat is way too big for one person to lift) and if the loveseat doesn't fit at that point in time, I have to bring it back inside the store, get back in line and return the items?"

"No Ma'am"

He pauses for another second and says,

"We don't accept returns"

veg4dixie

Since I am obviously having trouble with this Southern dialect (see below post), I thought I would try out this little test. I was horrified to learn that I was 28% Dixie. I will start keeping a tally of how many times a day no one here in NC understands me. Wouldn't be interesting if it was 72% of the time?

Take the test and find out. More misunderstandings and frustrating interactions to be discussed in the near future.

veg4reasons

I've got a new catchphrase.

Picnic Ham.

See, we moved to North Carolina from Tucson, Arizona last week. Oddly enough, more people spoke an English dialect that I understood when I lived an hour from Mexico vs. living here.

Yesterday my husband and I stood in front of Lowe's admiring a grill. A husband and wife approached us and our stomachs sank with the fear that yet another stranger was going to invite us to attend their church.

Hey, people of North Carolina! I can't make it through a traffic light without passing a church! If I needed a church and couldn't find one, well shit, that would be two things I need. A church and glasses. Beat someone else with your bible.

So this couple surrounded us and started speaking in tongues. Not about church, but about grills.

My husband and I stood there transfixed. By the look on his face I could tell my husband (who is deaf in one ear to begin with) wasn't understanding a word. As his loving wife I did what I could to assist him, which was run to the end of the grill display and pretend to make a call to no one on my dead cell phone.

The wife navigated her way through the grills, rapidly approaching me. She smiled and said something that sounded like "We eat every meal out!", so I replied "We eat every meal at home!". Which is a blatant lie but I wanted to sever any potential bond she was trying to form.

As I walked back to my husband I heard the man drawl out a series of words that only Forrest Gump himself could've understood. We smiled at him, he stared back at us. Finally they shrugged and walked off.

"What the sam hell were they saying?!" I demanded.

"Hell if I know!"

With a wry smile I asked my husband, "Did you hear what I heard?"

"Picnic ham!" we shouted simultaneously.

All we could decipher out of all those words that crossed his teeth was "two hour picnic ham", except he spoke it like his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth and his mouth was full of tobacco. "Pick-nick-am".

We never will be sure what the purpose was of them confronting us during our buying decision. We thought maybe they were trying to steer us away from purchasing that particular grill (Pick Nickam!) or maybe they were just inviting us over for lunch ( a picnic?) or maybe they were telling us to chose Nick as our salesman (Pick Nick!)

Any way you toss the dice, there's a married couple walking around this town thinking they just saw the two dumbest people in the world at Lowe's. Its either us or them.