I'll see your sugar and raise you two sweetie pie's.
In addition to relaxing and sleeping late, the Farmer and I will be meeting with an architect for the purpose of designing a vacation home that will one day become our retirement home. I've contacted several firms and found several to speak with while we're in town.
I said I wouldn't reveal our destination, but let's just say it's far south of the Mason-Dixon line and there's an alligator farm in town. As I relate this story keep in mind that although I was born and raised in Illinois my southern roots are deep, DEEP taproots and my branches are dripping with spooky Spanish moss. If you cut my veins I bleed barbecue sauce and sausage gravy. My grandmother and all my aunts are bona fide southern belles of the highest order. They didn't sweat, they glistened.
Today I called to make the appointment with the architect. If I was calling my cousin Nita I'd know just what to expect. I would not be thrown for any loops in the conversation. I can hold my own in any southern belle banter.
"Hey, baby doll. How you doing?" Nita would ask.
But remember, I wasn't calling my cousin Nita, I was calling an architectural firm. You know, the office of college degreed professionals.
"Hi, my name is Suzanne and I'm calling from Illinois. We own some property in town and we're looking to hire an architect to create a site specific design. Could I make an appointment?"
"Oh sure sugar," she replied. "Just give me your name hun..."
Hun?? As in Atilla the Hun, or honey? I don't know but I'm pretty sure that's a little casual for the office. Kind of the conversational equivalent of wearing a tube top to the office.
"Is 1:00 gonna work for you sweetie?" she asked.
OK, that's one sweetie, two sugars and a hun in less than 4 sentences. I think that breaks some kind of record. There should be some rules of engagement when you're talking to people from the south. I'd suggest reserving the term "sugar" for people you've actually met in person. Just a thought.
It doesn't matter. I love it. The woman was very nice and very helpful. Someone that helpful can call me anything they choose.
I'm wondering though, do you think the architect would be upset if I called him "DUDE"?
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For further reading on this subject check out "Sleeping at the Starlight Motel" or "Mama Makes Up her Mind" by Bailey White.