Accents, G-strings and Rum: Cocktail Hour Down South
Our initial descent depressed me. The dry, rust-colored Alabama hills were marred by winding clay paths, paths that didn’t so much snake around the curves of the knolls and valleys as they instead, made senseless turns, cross-backs and forks. Slow, faltering, lazy, just like the people, I thought.
It’s okay, I can say it—I’m one of them.
The book I had been reading slid through my fingers and into my lap as I stared out the plane window, saddened and transfixed. We hovered above the hills at the same altitude for a good long while, long enough to depress me… long enough to make me think of having 2.4 children and buying a 3-bedroom ranch-style house…long enough to ponder living in a city w. exactly 2 good restaurants… long enough to make me remember a few weeks ago back down South…
A friend had recently gotten married and invited Southern Boy and I over for drinks. Eight o’clock in the evening, we walk into her home, her palace, her reason for going to junior college and never crossing the state line. Brown wall-to-wall plush carpeting, a living room furniture set from “Haverty’s” and the smell of Shake N’ Bake pork chops wafting out of the kitchen greeted us. She and the husband scoot off in search of their last bottle of Myer’s coconut rum (yes—rum for an aperitif) and leave us to the delights of their living room. Wedding pictures, embroidered pillows and—what was this? What had they chosen for coffee table reading? Last year’s subscription to Playboy Magazine. January through December were fanned out to delight us—g-strings, lightening-shaped pubic hair, ass-shots, come-hither stares and all.
Southern Boy laughed. I grimaced. $20 martinis at the Four Seasons had never seemed so appealing.
Good God, get me back to the City.
December 21st, 2005 at 12:44 pm
I for one can verify that all of the state is not as bad as all of that. Birmingham, Mobile, Montgomery, and Huntsville have some charming pockets, and there are plenty of southerners in said cities who have none such atrocites in their homes (wall to wall brown carpet, my God!) and their accents are more of a sophisticated draaawwl. Oh, and by the way, we have at least 3 decent restaurants.
December 21st, 2005 at 1:04 pm
I am from the South, too. Born in Mississippi, then onto Birmingham, then to north Florida. Every time my plane takes off form LaGuardia, a mental countdown begins until I touch NYC ground once again.
December 21st, 2005 at 2:07 pm
as a girl from alabama who has lived in nyc for over 5 years now, i find your comments absolutely appalling. who do you think you are? reese witherspoon already played the life you’re dreaming up for yourself in Sweet Home Alabama.
i’m not so sure that you should codify an entire region of the country based on your isolated experiences. i don’t know which is worse - the way you exploit your “friends” as being stereotypical classless southerners or the fact that those really are your friends. like attracts like, sweetheart.
December 21st, 2005 at 3:28 pm
if you had read any of my other blog posts, “getoveryourself77″ (which, indeed,you do need to do), you would know that i love the south and will always call it home. i am, in fact, speaking of isolated occasions because this is MY BLOG. that is what a blog does–speak of isolated occasions/moments/thoughts.
you, sweetheart, need to check yourself off my blog and write one of your own (no matter how pathetic it might turn out to be).
December 21st, 2005 at 3:46 pm
At least you bother going home to visit. I am so ambivalent that I don’t even go home anymore (it’s been like 6 years).
And yes, this friend is Tacky with a capital T. Who puts Playboy out for company to see? Gross!
December 22nd, 2005 at 9:21 am
Bravo Belle!
December 22nd, 2005 at 10:19 am
Who ever said anything about Reese Witherspoon? I love Alabama. I go home and see all of my friends with their new husbands, houses and babies and I thank God I moved to New York.
December 22nd, 2005 at 11:10 am
What’s an apertif?
Seriously?
December 22nd, 2005 at 3:04 pm
The funny thing about blogs is that they are public. Even people who don’t agree with the writer feel will comment because of the openness of the medium. That’s just the way it goes; take it in stride. At any rate, I thought this was an interesting post that nicely captured how people can love their home and also find that it doesn’t quite fit them as well as it used to.
December 27th, 2005 at 1:29 pm
“..invited Southern Boy and I” is incorrect usage. Your editor will probably tell you this though.
June 5th, 2006 at 12:04 pm
Love the blog, have been poring over the archives as well as enjoying the latest entries. I’m sure your book will be fantastic.
This post, however, while interesting, made me a little uncomfortable. Your “friends” invited you over to dinner and this post openly mocks their attempt to entertain you and your boyfriend. Obviously, they are short on New York sophistication, but that is no excuse to be less than gracious to friends who have welcomed you into your home. I hope your friends did not read your scornful depiction of their “dinner party.” I’m sure it would be quite hurtful to them.
Still, I love the blog and it encourages me to continue working on my own material.