Growing up Southern, there is a certain code of manners that is pretty much instilled from birth (I promise this is not another diatribe on my mother's mandate for "etiquette classes" at the age of 8. Though I did just recall licking my butter knife at the graduation luncheon at the Omni hotel. My teacher, complete with perfectly coiffed bun, pursed lips, and breathy Charlestonian dialect, shunned me by saying, " Miss Cah-ro-line, we dohhn't lick our silva-wahaya." Perhaps in my own subconscious way, it was my version of a protest.) We learn to say "yes ma'am" and "no sir" about the time we utter our first words. It becomes automatic and of second-nature. I remember around the age of 10, new neighbors from New York moved in. Being the polite little Southern girl I was raised to be, I'd dutifully answer Mrs. Diane with a "yes ma'am" or "no ma'am." She recoiled with a laugh, "ugh...please don't call me 'mam!' It makes me feel like an old woman!" Ut oh. This was going to be a problem. Try undoing 10 years of programming. Not easy.
Another line item on the Southerner's Code of Conduct is to offer a friendly hello or at bare minimum flash a kind smile as you make eye-contact with passersby. It's just how we do. Nothing makes a person stand out as a foreigner more than to inadvertently snub a Southerner exhibiting this innate behavior. Unaware that this Code does not necessarily follow one across the Mason-Dixon line, I found myself quickly becoming the "odd girl" when I'd take Ollie for a walk around the block. I slipped into my usual routine of smiling or saying hello when we passed someone. I did not always receive the same reaction back (and noted to self that reaction varied depending on if recipient was of the male vs. female variety). Telling Lewis about this, he warned me that exhibiting this behavior here meant something ENTIRELY different than it means in the motherland. Lone blonde preppy girl + smile + hello = signal that you'd like to be asked out for a artisanal draft beer at the latest hipster bar. Not at all my intention. Armed with this information on my new culture, I vowed to be stoic and practice my new "citified persona." It was HARD. For the first few weeks, I felt so rude! It went against everything in my nature, but after a month or so of practice, I'm happy to report, that I was able to successfully walk past someone without the need to react. (perhaps this should be considered my second graduation from etiquette school - West Coast edition.) Success.
This behavior has become the new normal for me - so much so, that I'd almost forgotten that it was ever a struggle...until a few weeks ago when my mother came for a visit. Being the original Southern Belle whom I credit for many of my social graces, my mother was the new stranger in a strange land. She said hello to everybody. Not so much an issue when Lewis was with us, but when we took off on our little road trip to wine country, we definitely dealt with some fallout. Picture the below scene:
