It's funny that I ended up being the first one to introduce myself, because the other two tend to think of me as the "nice one" and get all surprised when I get bitchy.

It's not that I'm not a bitch, or that I'm not nice.

It's just that I'm southern, born and raised.Ever heard a southern girl say "bless her heart"? Or, worse (because, trust me, it is worse), "bless your heart"?

Sweetie, you just got ripped to shreds. And I bet that southern gal didn't so much as bat an eye.

"Bless her heart, that salesgirl doesn't know her Crane from her Carlson Craft." (I used to work in a stationery store - a mecca for southern ladies.) "Oh bless his heart, he just stepped right in that dog crap and didn't even notice." "Honey, bless your heart, that outfit is so colorful."

Of course, the trick to working at the stationery store, and the reason you never actually hear me say the dreaded phrase, is that everyone there knows it. So at some point, one learns to say it without saying it. Just that tone in your voice, the look in your eye; you know you're saying it in your head, the people who know you best know you're saying it, but the customer doesn't have a clue. "Here's your change, in exactly 23 quarters, 12 nickels, and 16 pennies, as you requested (bless your heart)." (In case you haven't figured it out, that one meant, "You complete lunatic.")

So, you know... you just go on thinking I'm the nice one. Bless your heart.

Labels: Bless your heart, Introduction