In our very first conversation, she told me, "No matter where I go, I ALWAYS wear my Dixie panties!" Let me give you a better idea of how this actually sounded....
No matta wheya I go, I awl ways wheaya my Dixay paantays!
The term "Dixie panties" was a first for me, but I can't help but picture a pair of granny panties with the Confederate flag splayed across the ass and old lace around the leg openings. Who knows? Maybe there's even a thong version. Either way, classy.
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| The Devil went down on Georgia. |
She also told me that she never dreamed she'd be married to a Yankee (and her husband was not a major league baseball player.) She referred to the Civil War as if it occurred earlier this year. She told me about a Yankee friend of her husband's whom she despised. She recounted once telling the man, "You sir, I do not care for. Your people did not even bury our dead!" Again, here's how it sounded....
You sir, I do not cay ya forwa. Yourwa people did not even bury our dea-ud!
She was in her sixties, but I have to give her credit, she looked great. She'd definitely gone in for some maintenance, but it was extremely well done. She was the only woman on the island who approached a day on the water with full makeup and lipstick. (I'm pretty certain they had to throw away the snorkel she used after she left given that shade of lipstick.)
She'd saunter down each morning, her sandals clickety-clacking against the dock. A daringly cut one-piece, a brightly printed pareo around her hips. An enormous, hot pink straw hat, the likes of which is not typically seen outside the Kentucky Derby. No doubt it was needed to protect her alabaster skin. Again, I have to give her credit, she committed to a look and rocked it. The only thing missing was a parasol.
While I couldn't hear the conversation as she left the dock with a private guide, I can imagine....
Oh, Carlos, I hope we'll see more of those fish with all the pretty colors!
Oh, Carlos, I hope we'll see mowa of those fish with all the pretty cohlas!
Lord, have mercy, surely we won't see any sharks!
Lawad, have mercy, shorely we won't see any shawaks!
I love your accent, Carlos! I sure wish I had one.
I luuv yorwa accent, Carlos! I showa wish I had one.
I call bullshit (bullshiyaat) on her accent. My accent is far from exotic, but hers was over the top. She sounded like a character from the Colonel Angus skit from Saturday Night Live. My inclination is that she was a charlatan conducting shenanigans!
I also call bullshit on her matrimonial partner. No woman as devoutly Southern as she portrayed herself would ever let a Yankee anywhere near the shady thicket of her delicate poonanny.
I can't help but wonder if her car horn sounds like that of the General Lee.... At the very least, I'm sure it doesn't go, "Beep! Beep!" but rather......
Hoewonk! Hoewonk!
As we say in the South, she was definitely a character. Bless her heart.
