Southern Hospitality

Being from Ohio, I'm used to hateful, grumpy people everywhere I go. Everyone is in too much of a hurry for anything like social graces. In a crowded store people will barrel right at you. No eye contact, no excuse me. They're the bull, you're the red flag. Get out of the way or get run into. I hold my ground.  Come on, run into me. This tactic almost always works. When they realize their path is blocked, they'll look up, say an embarrassed "Excuse me." and walk around. 

The first time I went to the grocery here in the south, I wasn't sure what was going on. People smiled at me. They got out of the way...really they were never in the way. They stayed on their side of the aisle while I was on mine. No one ran in front of me or reached across me for something on the shelf. Then when I got to the check out lane, the boy ringing me up not only smiled at me, he unloaded my cart! I was so taken aback by this I was convinced I was making a grocery faux pas. "Am I supposed to do something other than stand here?" I blurted out. He did a double take. "Um...no, ma'am, you're fine." Then the little shit smiled at me and started laughing. "What?" I asked starting to feel even more uncomfortable. "Well, no ones ever asked me that before." I looked around. All the cashiers were unloading groceries and being polite to the customers. Very confusing. I felt like I was in Pleasantville.

When I walk through the hospital, everyone I pass smiles and say's "Hey." (Hey is southern for hello in case you were wondering.) People are even polite in Wal-mart! Wal-mart!...A cashier in a store downtown was waving me to her register. Two women stepped in front of me. The cashier smiled politely at them and said, "I'll get you right after I get this lady." The two women very graciously stepped out of my way and even chit chatted with me! If that had happened in Cincinnati a brawl would have ensued. 

I took myself out to lunch. I sat at the bar so I wouldn't be a tiny little woman in a huge booth again. The woman beside me started up a conversation. It wasn't one of those awful conversations with a stranger who you wish would just shut the hell up and let you eat in peace. She was extremely nice and pleasant. She and the bartender were full of ideas of fun places for me to try while I'm here.

I was approached by a man on the street begging for money. He was so polite about his begging. I gave him a dollar.

Is it sad that my first instinct when confronted with manners and politeness is to distrust it?