Something is afoot at the Circle K.....

Sheeps and I both managed to have a few days off at the same time, so we decided to venture forth to the wilds of North Carolina to see my mother. Sheeps had yet to meet her, and I haven't seen her in a few years. (Yes, yes, I am a horrible son...) We ventured out into the great blue yonder... Okay, it was the great tarred wonder, as we drove.... The trip up was fairly uneventful. And by uneventful, I mean sitting in holiday traffic for hours on end, doing nothing... Yay! At one point, in glorious "Salisbury, NC", the 5pm rush hour plus holiday traveller interstate traffic was funnelled into one lane. So, we pulled into Mom's driveway about 2.5 hours later than originally expected...

Moms and Sheeps got along well, teaming up to pick on this poor, unfortunate turtle. Good times. Actually, it was good times.

Thanksgiving turned out to be a lot more work than I'd anticipated. My plan was to eat lots of turkey, watch football, burp a lot, eat more turkey. Typical male holiday plans. I ended up having to help a lot with the cooking. Mom is pretty petite, believe it or not (all the women in my family are, the menfolk being monstrous giants...), and my bro, T is just recovering from surgery (tore his bicep) so is the one-armed man right now. (Dr. Kimble, beware!) That meant slingin' the 18 lb bird around became my responsibility. I'm actually a fairly proficient cook, so it wasn't all that bad.

Then the guests started arriving. It might be a bit important to point out that this is rural North Carolina... The accents were thick. I was warned to behave myself and not laugh at them, at least not to their faces. I was good. I mostly avoided them. Sheeps and I struck up a conversation with my niece's husband, and that pretty much occupied our time. It was later that we found out this was a great accomplishment, as he is supposedly very stranger-shy, and usually sits around quietly, talking to no one... Go us!

Another of the attendees was my bro's girlfriend, K. She was bringing her daughter, K2, who would be bringing her daughter, K3. We were warned, several times, that K3 was (whispered) "black". You have to understand that I am the youngest of my family, and was the first to be raised in a fully integrated society. It seems hard to believe, but the age of segregation really wasn't *that* long ago... It really isn't their fault that they hold some outdated beliefs, but they're working on it. They apparently don't realize that I was raised in the age of enlightenment. Heck, I went to a predominantly black high school. As a matter of fact, that was the name of it - Predominantly Black High School. Kidding. I kid! Anyway, K3 was a charming young lady, who is mulato, not black, but I didn't even want to get into that discussion....

Being that I had to get back to G'ville to work the UF-FSU game, we had to cut the visit short and leave Friday morning. We left an hour later than the trip up, stopped for 2 sit-down meals (Sheeps is still recovering from oral surgery, so "road food" is right out...) and still made it home about the same time we'd arrived at Mom's. The trip south was uneventful. Mostly. Here we come to subject matter...

We stopped in Columbia, SC for a meal, and a gas-up. After eating, we pulled into the service station, filled the tank, and went inside to get some road drinks. While waiting in line, we struck up a congenial conversation with the gentleman in front of us. He'd spotted Sheeps' Ohio State sweatshirt, and commented, being a Gamecock fan, himself. I didn't mention that we were both actually Gator fans, as we'd kicked the living snot out of them a couple weeks before. He was very friendly, though with a very heavy accent... Nice guy. He got to the front of the line, and put his items on the counter. As the clerk was ringing him up, the following conversation took place between he and the clerk. (You have to put a very, very heavy 'suthern' accent to this to truly appreciate...)

He: "Is Amy in?"
Clerk: "Nope."
H: "Mah wife wuz in heer las' night."
C: "Yep."
H: "I don' 'preciate yoo callin' her a crack-head."

(The volume levels raised rapidly, as did our eyesbrows. We stood quietly, with sphincters clenched, awaiting the impending shotgun battle...)

C: "I don' 'preciate wut she dun!"
H: "Yoo ain't got no call talkin' ta her like that!"
C: "She don' got no call to act like she done!"
H: "Amy's gonna hear 'bout this and yer ass is gonna git fired!"
C: "She already knows, an' yoo can git banned from this here store agin!"
"We'll see wut happins!!"

(Again?)

As he walked out of the store, backwards so he could glare at her, he bumped into the magazine rack. C: "See? That's a rack, there! Yer drunk!"

(Don't poke the bear!!)

Luckily, he did not go out to his vehicle to get a weapon, and we managed to avoid being on CNN that day. For a while, though, it was questionable... We paid for our drinks quickly and hurried out to the car and got the hell out of there.

So, how was your Thanksgiving?