Zero percent of them can correctly make a "danger is my middle name" swift and efficient right hand turn. Southerners like to take what we call "Careful Corners".
Adopt a Ned Ryerson-esque tone and accent (see also, whitest white guy in the midwest... white) and repeat after me, "Caaaaareful... Caaaaareful... Caaaareful Corners..."
A huge majority of them don't find it necessary to indicate that they will be slowing down to the speed of MOLASSES on a cold January morning to make their turn... and the ones who DO pull the old slow down first, put blinker on RIGHT before turn and THEN turn as slowly as humanly possible.
Caaaareful Corners.
This then leads to a train of thought similar to, "what? Why are you slowing down? What is happening? What is going on? What's wrong?? Are you okay? Did you mean to put your haz- Ohhhhh!!!! GOT ME AGAIN, YA SLOW-POKE SOUTHERNER!!! DAAAANNNNGGG!!"
Cut to me shaking my fist or deploying the half mast birdy (my favorite, since it's a throwback to the 80's asshole movement). The first few times this happened, I was a mix of emotions and now I'm STARTING to get used to it... which troubles me.
Since road rage is just not done down here, y'all... I can't REALLY beep and yell out the window like I normally would. I end up feeling a lot like this lady here:
Or, for you non Odyssey readers...
... RIP VAN WINKLE!!
What can I say? If you haven't survived The Gauntlet (Massachusetts - in partic BOSTON, am I right?), then you're obviously not playing with a full deck. I then like to school the motorists around or behind me by taking a daredevil spinning turn and then ending up in a tight space and going, "Haaaaaaa-like a GLOVE!!"
In unrelated news... for Christmas 2008 I want some more Paula Dean cookbooks (OF COURSE), and a Bruce Mozert Calendar.
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