Lists, Lists, Lists

You know you’re in the South when…

  • young folk call you ‘Ma’am’ or ‘Sir’
  • there aren’t enough ‘buggies’ to go around in the Goodwill
  • you take a left after Rodney’s Rockets to get to work
  • you see a guy walking along a main road, just carrying a big old flag
  • it’s okay to make a pile of stuff in your yard and just set it on fire
  • the square footage of the cars on your lawn > your actual living space
  • you have pit stains just going to get the mail (and it’s not even June)
  • removing bugs from the house is a daily occurrence
  • you see a spiky spider egg case by your front door and you hope it’s from the adorably punk-rock Spiny Orb-Weaver spider, but it’s not–it’s from a Brown Widow
  • you can drive 10 miles in any direction and find some crazy rural roadside art
  • you can’t buy beer on a Sunday, even though it’s for sale in the grocery store
  • the clerks at the post office don’t care for the modern art stamps you’re so excited about
  • buildings are stuccoed in oyster shells
  • road names are really creative
  • yard sales are year-round
  • you can’t find any good shopping lists because people don’t litter down here
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