I just finished my morning coffee at a quaint little place in Biloxi, Mississippi. A group of old men sit behind me chewing the cud as the southern folk say. One just asked the group, “You know why they don’t let chickens in church?” He stumped the group with this one. Of course it is because of their fowl language.
Everyone that comes in greets the group of old men. I appear to be the only outsider, but I do not feel like I am being treated like the outsider. Quite the opposite, I am enjoying the southern hospitality.
Two weeks ago, when we were on vacation in Maryland, I went into a coffee shop with a huge seating capacity. I cannot imagine every seat ever being filled. On every table there was a sign instructing customers to leave as soon as they finish their food. Here there is a sign that reads, “Set up your desk, plug in and get to work on those T.P.S. Reports! Let us know if you get thirsty or hungry.” Definitely a completely different level of hospitality. (T.P.S. reports is an Office Space joke; I know this because the there is another sign explaining that.) I love the south.
While I am enjoying my morning coffee and getting some work done, Brainy Bird is asleep. Being a teenager headed off to college must be exhausting. Our plan is for me to work until noon, and for him to sleep until noon. We will then grab a quick bite to eat and hit the road. We are stopping in Atlanta for dinner and shopping and then we are on to Augusta.
Off we go!