I’ve become more and more of a New Yorker. It’s only a matter of time before I kick my Southern graciousness, lady like behavior, and genteel manners to the curb.
When I was home for the holidays, my mom and I went shopping with a list of items I needed to purchase. Only one place in town had everything on my list... Wal-Mart. A beacon, a Mecca, the main attraction for locals who seek a plethora of goods at low prices.
We walked through the automatic sliding glass doors and joined the crowds of people that swarmed the aisles. After an hour of battling crowds and dodging frazzled shoppers, I was at the end of my rope. I could no longer handle the glare from the fluorescent lights and getting rammed from behind by carts.
We headed to the hardware section to grab the last item and escape the frenzy. I rounded the corner to find the aisle blocked by an old man in a motorized wheelchair. He had not only parked in the middle of the aisle, but moved soooooo slow. All I could think was, “For the love of Pete! Move it, you old geezer.” How New York of me.
I coughed to signal my presence. I said, “Excuse me.” I sucked in and tried to squeeze around him. I tapped my foot. Finally, when he finished comparing prices and reading labels, he zoomed off.
I shook my head when I realized what a New Yorker I had become. I now walk faster, cuss a little more, elbow people in line, and harass feeble old men in wheelchairs. Awesome.
When I was home for the holidays, my mom and I went shopping with a list of items I needed to purchase. Only one place in town had everything on my list... Wal-Mart. A beacon, a Mecca, the main attraction for locals who seek a plethora of goods at low prices.
We walked through the automatic sliding glass doors and joined the crowds of people that swarmed the aisles. After an hour of battling crowds and dodging frazzled shoppers, I was at the end of my rope. I could no longer handle the glare from the fluorescent lights and getting rammed from behind by carts.
We headed to the hardware section to grab the last item and escape the frenzy. I rounded the corner to find the aisle blocked by an old man in a motorized wheelchair. He had not only parked in the middle of the aisle, but moved soooooo slow. All I could think was, “For the love of Pete! Move it, you old geezer.” How New York of me.
I coughed to signal my presence. I said, “Excuse me.” I sucked in and tried to squeeze around him. I tapped my foot. Finally, when he finished comparing prices and reading labels, he zoomed off.
I shook my head when I realized what a New Yorker I had become. I now walk faster, cuss a little more, elbow people in line, and harass feeble old men in wheelchairs. Awesome.
3 comments:
Not at all genteeeeel for a lady from anywhere. Some day that could be your dad or mom, how you feel then. Oh how we have changed itty bitty, oh how we have chanded. What kind of metamorphosis is that?
EVKF,
Hey. It's me! How are you? How was your visit to Kentucky? I was in Mississippi for the most part. Guess what? Drew got his wings, and we are going to Japan in a year. I will send you some pictures soon.
Love ya!
Erin
One of the most startling things I found when we moved here was the excessive honking of cars. When a person honks here they practically take a nap on that horn, read the paper, and have a meal while jamming their palms down to let you know just how much you're in their way. I totally did that in California for the holidays and probably scared the little old lady I was directing my impatient HOOOOOONNNKKKK at to death. Gotta love NYC. ;)
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