There are some things people put up with, even if they don't like it. But we put on that fake smile and just ignore it while cussing the offender out in our heads. But there are other things that cross the line and just have to be talked about, one of these happened to me today.
There are a few rules to living in the south, even if your a transplant like I am these rules must be religiously followed:
If you hear someone say "Bless Your Heart" what they are really meaning is "Your such an idiot I would like to smash your face it".
You must learn to drink iced sweet tea, it's far more important than life saving medication here in the south. The Brit in me cheats and drinks mine hot, so far I have not been hung from a tree in the town's courtyard or used for target practice, but it could just be that I have not been seen breaking this rule in public yet.
You must own at least one article of camouflage clothing, I get away with this one by having a pair of camouflage pajamas, I figure this way if the CAMO swat team shows up to do a house to house check I can at least pull out these pajama's without actually having to wear camouflage in public. A security measure.
You go to church every time the doors are open. I am Catholic so they just consider I am a heathen anyway and don't bother me about that one. Shit, I'm not even sure they would classify us as human.
The beginning of Nascar, football and hunting season are celebrated as holidays.
If snow flurries are predicted all schools and businesses must close immediately so everyone can get to the store to buy that all important bread and milk.
You can have severe acne, missing limbs, smallpox, or any other "problem" but you damn well better not have even one crooked tooth or you will spend the next six years in braces. However, missing teeth are more than acceptable and if you got that tooth/teeth knocked out in bar fight it then transforms into a badge of honor to be envied by all.
You must own a shotgun, preferably proudly displayed in back window of your pick up truck on a gun rack. The truck must have the Confederate Flag displayed on it in some fashion. Since I don't own a pick up truck, Confederate Flag and only own a handgun I fear for my life every time I leave my house. I have been informed that I really should not have the British Flag as my front plate and that duct taping a handgun to the rear view mirror or the back window of my car doesn't really count.
You must call everyone woman M'am. I don't care if she is 3 yrs old and your 40 yrs old she is still called M'am. I have a hard time with this one. I don't like small children to begin with so I really don't feel that the screaming brat with the snotty nose and untied shoes in line at the grocery store should be addressed as M'am, unless done sarcastically.
But the main rule is you NEVER go into a woman's purse for any reason. Not even if she tells you it is alright. The proper etiquette is to hand the woman her purse and let her get out what you want or need from it. I remember a patient once that came into the ER and I needed to know what medication she was on, the woman was unconscious. I ask her husband what medications she was on and he told me he didn't know but she had them all in her purse. I ask him to please hand them to me. He refused, a look of horror on his face as he said "I can't get in her purse, that just wouldn't be right, you will have to wait until she wakes up". It was only after informing him, rather loudly, that she most likely would not wake up if I didn't know what those meds she had taken were that he very reluctantly got them out for me, with his head turned to the side, never once actually looking in that purse.
This is what brings us to my Demon Seed crossing the line last night. He not only got in my purse but helped himself to a $10 bill. No hiding, no sneaking, he did it right in front of me. Then had the nerve to look confused and surprised when the hissy fit and the vapors quickly overcame me. Now I feel forced to enroll him in "The Southern School of Right and Wrong" or at least take him to a Southern Baptist Church for a few weeks. This is a hard decision when I have tried so hard all these years to instill some of my British ways in all my children. I am afraid they will brainwash him or pry out of him my secrets of still drinking hot tea and eating scones, they will teach him that biscuits are really cookies, they will tell him Christmas poppers don't exist, so many things they can wipe from his brain! Hell I home school him now just so he won't learn to chew tobacco and wear plaid flannel shirts. Not to mention it isn't going to be an easy task getting Satan's child into a Southern Baptist Church, I'm sure some of those old timers will sniff him out immediately.