Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, September 2, 1993 TAG: 9309010046
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Beth Macy
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
Why are Southerners so much more polite than Northerners?
- S.M., Roanoke.
Dear S.M.:
Good question! I was puzzling over that one myself just last night at Taco Bell, when my husband accidentally squirted a whole packet of Hot Sauce all over his white "Cuz's Uptown B-B-Q" T-shirt.
I, being from Ohio, laughed so hard that I accidentally spit out part of my Chilito. But the woman in the next booth leaned over to our table and explained that the EXACT SAME THING happened to her last week.
She then instructed my husband to rinse the shirt out in the restroom, and to dab it with some Spray 'N Wash when he got home.
He, being from Indiana, smiled politely but of course did neither of those things. Right now the shirt is balled up on the bedroom floor.
But back to your question, I believe in my heart that Southerners are just plain nicer. For instance, I had an editor in Savannah, Ga., whose smile was so vast that her lipstick would sometimes smear onto her front teeth. Meanwhile, she would rip your stories, cut your salary and say in the sweetest, softest drawl, "I need three more stories by tomorrow, please," and you would leave her office actually thanking her.
Dear Gabby:
Have you called Information lately for an out-of-town telephone number? What's the deal?
- F.E., Ironto.
Dear F.E.:
Have I ever! The C&P Telephone masterminds are at it again, this time trying to make your life easier by offering to automatically dial the number you requested - for an additional charge of, oh, say, the price of a Taco Bell Chilito.
This reminds me of the Star-69 ploy introduced last year so that teen-agers all over Roanoke could covertly run up their parents' phone bills by calling each other and hanging up, then finding out who played the perennial prank by dialing asterisk-6-9. All for the price of, say, a plate of Nachos Belle Grande - per call.
There is one good thing about the new auto-dial Information ploy, though. Maybe it will keep all those car-phone drivers - who can't seem to dial a number without swerving over into the lane in front of you - on their own side of the road.
Dear Empress of Advice:
My wife and I are looking for a good fall vacation spot, a place where - as we hipsters say - we can really "let our hair down." Any ideas?
- N.S., Blacksburg
Dear N.S.:
Shhh . . . Let's keep this one under our sun visors, folks. It's not the kind of information they hand out to just anyone at the Outer Banks Chamber of Commerce. But if you're really looking to let your hair down - not to mention your Speedos and your bikini thongs - check out the northern end of the beach at Ocracoke Island, N.C.
You can imagine the shock that two naive Midwesterners like my husband and I experienced when we were walking along the beach three years ago this month . . . and suddenly everyone we passed was buck naked!
A co-worker of mine reported a similar experience when she unknowingly walked her elderly mother along the same stretch of beach and literally stumbled upon the phenomenon. Her mother got so flustered that she threw her towel on her own head and continued walking, exclaiming, "I don't like to look at those hangy-down things!"
But for you, N.S., the unofficial nude beach at Ocracoke might be just what you need to put the thrill back into your marriage. Just watch out for the green federal park service Jeeps, at least that's what I'm told.
If a park ranger catches you sunning yourself where the sun doesn't usually shine, sources say he'll threaten you with a "federal morals charge that stays on your record FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE," that last part echoing like the ocean in a conch shell.
Simply cover yourself up with the nearest towel, nod your head politely and say in the sweetest voice, "Yessir, I'm sorry, sir."
At least that's the advice I was given, not having ever personally experienced such a scenario myself, of course.
Oh, and one other thing: Don't forget your No. 50 sunscreen.
Beth Macy, a features department staff writer, will occasionally use her Thursday space to tackle tough issues for readers, such as why men fold road maps better than women. She promises to use only one exclamation point per response.
by CNB