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When I lived in Chicago I shared an apartment with a fellow named Robert. He was from North Carolina. All his friends were Southerners. His dearest friends he referred to as ‘the Family”. Robert would have me along to the Family’s dos and get-togethers. It was my first time really experiencing Southerners.
To be more specific, Southern gay men. (SGM)
Like most Northerners I thought ‘the southern accent’ was one accent. But with time I began to discern accents. I got skilled enough to know an accent from VA versus MS. Robert’s mother would invite me down to NC as the beach was so wide that time of year. I thought she meant the tide was out. She meant the sand was bleached white.
Southerners use words and do things I never experienced before. In the fridge was a continuous pitcher of iced tea – there was a ½ inch of sugar on the bottom that had to be swirled each time to use it. Neither Robert nor I drank the nasty brew; for me sugar in tea was a sacrilege, and Robert didn’t like the stuff. But he insisted it be there ‘for drop-in folk’
Someone (who has some southern roots) explained sweet-tea is the ‘House wine of the South”.
Robert’s ‘Family’ would quote Scarlet O’Hara a lot; and also Designing Women. I have never seen this show but I feel like I’ve heard every scene. Robert warned me about a certain charming smile on a SGM’s face that meant quite the opposite. Don’t piss off a SGM; you may not know it.
Apparently no matter how bitchy the comments were, they were cushioned by adding ‘bless your heart’ to them. Robert, bless his heart, was a notorious gossip about his friends only to become charming in their presence. The Family and other friends - bless their hearts - reciprocated.
Snow creates anxiety and panic with SGM. If half an inch of snow was predicted Robert would get fretful whether we had enough bread and milk ‘to last’. He didn’t seem worried about any other food stuffs. Once I came home to find several loaves. I questioned the purchase. 6 inches of snow was predicted that evening.
Robert was Jewish but ate ham and shrimp stating no true Southerner lives without such staples. Next to the sweet-tea was the jar of mayonnaise. It worked its way into everything. His mother, bless her heart, would offer me a dollop with just about everything they served.
I once dated a SGM; in the dark I got him to call me “darling’ (insert East Texan accent here).
