Day Two: I'd Say Something Sarcastic, but You'd Only Cry

Sarcasm is a language. It is my chosen language and the one I am more fluent in than ordinary American English. Unfortunately, it is also a language not completely familiar here in the south. These people take things to heart and their sensitivity continues to catch me off-guard. I am a New Yorker. I talk fast and loud and say what I think. I'm also prone to joking more than heartfelt sentiment, mostly as a cover for my own excessive emotionality. For whatever reason, I cannot quite get into the rhythm of the way people communicate down here.

Two days ago, I was informed that a friend of a friend -- a guy mind you -- didn't want to be around me because I'd given him a hard time the previous week. The specific circumstances are these: I was at my pub watching the Steelers on Monday night football. This friend started mouthing off about the Steelers and rooting for the Bengals despite not being a Cincinnati fan, and I said something to the effect that he didn't have to be such a jackass. I said it jokingly and in reference to his non-stop criticism of my team. True, I take football very seriously and I don't altogether trust a man who doesn't, but even so, I was joking. Apparently, however, I hurt his feelings because he thought I was calling him a dick or a jackass or both. Waaaahhhhhh! Get a grip and grow a pair.

Earlier this summer I upset a girl I've only seen sober when she wasn't working to the point that she sent in her friend to stick up for her. What did I say you ask? I told her that I really enjoyed the part of her karaoke performance that included her screaming at her friend over the microphone. This had nothing to do with the actual singing mind you, she was literally screaming INTO A MICROPHONE to get her friend's attention. She was near tears, though honestly, she's one of those "I don't get buzzed I get fall down drunk every time I drink" types so I'm not really sure how anyone could decipher upset from her normal incoherent ramblings. And in between these two times I offended a twenty-something guy by joking about how it was going to be a long day rather than saying "good morning" when I first greeted him. I mean, seriously?

Can we all just relax a bit and stop projected our rules of southern hospitality onto others? Yes, technically Charlotte is the south. Believe me, I am reminded anew each time I have to listen to someone who sounds either stupid or gay (which is offensive to actual gay people) simply because of their accent. I am not against the south completely, it is lovely here and the people ARE friendly, but no, it's not my favorite place on earth and no, I don't have to conform to your way of speaking. It's not like we're in the deep south or that the majority of the locals are actually local. It's a town populated mostly by transplants and hill people who moved here to the "big city" from their mountain hamlet.

How is it possible that a way of speaking so popular as to have basically been the genesis of numerous television shows is completely unfamiliar in Charlotte, NC? I don't start crying because you want to know all my business and won't stop telling me to have a "blessed day" or get out of the damn left lane when you're driving on the interstate at 50. I put up with your ridiculous accents, boat shoes, weird Donald Trump "swoop" hair and overly applied makeup, hairspray and perfume without breaking into tears, telling your boss, or sending a friend to defend me. So get the fuck over it Charlotte, NC. Sarcasm isn't a new invention. Seinfeld? House? The Daily Show? Oh wait, those are all "Yankee" shows. Ya'll probably don't even realize Steven Colbert is a liberal Democrat.

I'm done trying to figure out how to communicate in a language you understand. If you are going to get upset because I'm trash talking you over football AND YOU'RE A GUY then you'll have to excuse me if I just decide to apologize to your Mother for you turning out to be such a whiny little shit rather than apologizing to you for offending your delicate sensibilities. Oh and if you're so drunk most of the time that your accent merges with your slack-jaw drunken stupor to create a drooling, warble of a girl then no, I'm not going to worry so much about offending you either. There are many lovely things to appreciate here in the south and I am truly glad to have discovered a few of them, but I am not going to refrain from sarcasm simply because you are too obtuse to understand the concept. Oh and loosely translated, "obtuse" means you are a stupid fucking redneck.

Please, by all means stay in North Carolina. Do not penetrate deeper south and ruin the charm of such places like Charleston, Savannah or even Fayetteville, AR. And for the love of all that's sane, stay out of the north. You will be eaten alive by the fast-talking, insensitive natives and we have enough tourists up north who think the Olive Garden is real Italian food.

I hope I haven't made anyone cry with this blog. I know the sarcasm can be a bit overwhelming, but keep practicing and maybe you'll learn how to cope. On the other hand, if you feel that my joking around with you has somehow grievously wounded you, feel free to come tell me what a horrible person I am and that you never want to speak to me again. Seriously, because that is clearly the appropriate response to my neglecting to say "good morning" in a language you understand. We Yankees have no feelings, we are clearly just empty shells because we don't let you see us cry. Thanks for the Southern hospitality, it's been real special ya'll.