The Southern Speed of Things

Kentucky folk talk slow. I have begun to walk slow. I drink 2 cups of coffee over 2.5 hours. (I also have begun to eat lunch at 11:30am. Sometimes 11. Today I walked to the kitchen at 10:30am, then just shook my head in disgust and forced myself to walk back out.)

It has come to my attention that slow and old are somewhat synonymous. What do old people do? They drink coffee. Slowly. They read. Leisurely. They take walks. Lengthy only in time, never in distance.  They go to the grocery store. As in, the main activity of the day. I spent Friday night at the grocery store. Just checking out what America was churning out. I was getting real picky with the pricing, too. Usually, incremental price differences don’t even register. $1? Sure; but cute packaging can claim $1. That night, I poured over price per ounce. I put a can of tomato sauce back, switching it out for one that cost 15 cents less! What?! Time is money, after all. I probably lost the 15 cents in the time it took to do the switchout! Unbelievable. But…I had the time. And I took it.

So when I got pulled over on the way home, I was shocked to say the least. ‘Dude, I know I wasn’t going too fast!’, I wanted to shout. But I know you’re supposed to be ‘respectful’ and allow the officer to speak, so I quickly threw my phone ((which I had been on, by the way, at the time I saw the lights)) under my skirt and put my hands together  in a prayer position, ready for my reprimand.  However, before he could even speak, I inched my head out of the car a little and screamed in his face, “Argghhh! I have NE-VER been pulled over!!! I have a PER-FECT driving record!!!!!, then contorted my face into one that denotes misunderstanding.

The officer paused, possibly waiting to see if I had anything more to get off my chest. Then he spoke slowly, leisurely, calmly, quietly, and with a very thick southern accent. “Well….YOU STILL DOIF YOU’D JUST TURN ON YOUR LIGHTS….”

I had been so at peace with my surroundings, I hadn’t even noticed they were off. I turned them on. Headed home. And then passed the next 60 minutes arranging and re-arranging the freezer.

*2 notes:

1. I have been pulled over before. But does it count when it happens in Mechanicsburg? When all the cops are some strain of cousin and there’s no one around to even kill with your car!?

2. Perfect driving record, my ass. Though to be fair [to myself], I wasn’t exactly driving when I hit an older woman’s parked car a few years ago. Just backing up.


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