A Northerner’s Thoughts On The South

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Well, everyone, I’m back. I survived the weeklong drinking binge that is spring break. After eight hours in the car with three of my best friends, we arrived in warm and sunny Myrtle Beach, S.C. Within a half hour, my group was out on the beach dizzy batting until it was time to see what Myrtle’s nightlife had in store for us.

I’m going to mention here that as someone who was born and raised in Maryland, I have never considered myself a northern girl, or, for that matter, a southern girl. I mean, I grew up below the Mason-Dixon Line, I say y’all, and I don’t really know if Maryland was a part of the Confederacy or not. (In AP history, my teacher just shrugged and said “Who cares? The North won anyway.”) I’m not a northerner or a southerner. I’m just stuck in the middle. I say this because the culture shock I had while in South Carolina was very, very real. It didn’t really hit me until I met a group of Phi Psis from Tennessee, who really drove home the statement of “Welcome to the South, darlin’.”

1. You Are All Freakishly Nice

This isn’t a bad thing by any means, but holy shit, you’re just a nice group of people. Doesn’t it get exhausting? Do you ever, you know, NOT want to talk to someone? I lost count of how many times I participated in small talk conversations while I was down there. I had a 20 minute conversation about Hot Pockets in a freakin’ Piggly Wiggly! (Of course, I had to shop at the Piggly Wiggly–huge fan of “The Help.”) I do have to admit, it did make me feel at home and relaxed. No matter where I was, there was always a friendly face willing to chat. I even tried striking up conversations in lines at the bar, because when in Rome, right? Too bad I tried to chat up a group of people from the University of Maryland in line at Señor Frogs, who just stared at me and turned away. Assholes.

2. There Is No Need To Call Me Ma’am

I am 21 years old and I can barely do laundry without breaking my hand. I am, in no way, a ma’am. Seriously, there is no reason for you to call me that. So stop. Please. It just geeks me out. I love that you are respectful, but can you show it in another way? Please? Also, there is no need to call me darlin’, either. Like, we just hooked up, we didn’t exchange vows. Stop.

3. You Keep Up Your Appearance Really Well

One of the previously mentioned Phi Psis came back to our hotel room in an attempt to get lucky with my friend. What he didn’t expect, however, were the antics that my other friend and I are notoriously known for. After entertaining ourselves by running around our room, drunkenly singing Celine Dion, dancing like idiots, and even getting into a food fight, the poor guy looked like he’d seen a ghost. I asked him what was wrong, and his reply was that he had never seen a group of girls act so rambunctiously. He even had sisters and still couldn’t wrap his head around why we acted the way we did. We, of course, couldn’t believe this. Even though we’re a pretty strange group of girls, all of our guy friends know about it and know other girls act somewhat similar to us, too. He shook his head and sighed, “Nah, you northern girls are a breed of your own.”

4. You’re Kind Of Judgmental Of People Who Aren’t From The South

I understand the South is awesome. I wouldn’t have traveled down there for spring break if it wasn’t, but come on. There is no need to be passive aggressive or judgmental because I’m not from the South. When I tell you I’m from Maryland, that is not your cue to give me “I’m so sorry” eyes. I’m not down here to steal your southern boys and ruin your southern charm, or whatever you’re scared of. I’m here to get drunk in warm weather.

5. Why Say “Bless Your Heart” When “Go Fuck Yourself” Is So Much Easier?

If you follow me on Twitter, you probably already know I accidently nailed a random girl in the neck with my wedges one night at the bar. I felt really, really bad because I’m not a heartless bitch. What I didn’t mention on Twitter is that the girl, after giving me a completely warranted death glare, patted me on the shoulder and said, “bless your heart.”

Bless your heart? BLESS YOUR HEART? I just nailed you in the THROAT with WEDGES, and all you have to say is bless your heart? I understand keeping up appearances and being polite and yadda yadda, but it just feels good screaming a nice, “Go fuck yourself!” when someone hurts you. Passive aggressiveness isn’t always the answer.

All in all, I had a great time in South Carolina. I know judging the entire South based off of one week in Myrtle Beach isn’t the greatest basis, but for every uncomfortable situation I was in, I was in way more “OMG I love it down here yes, yes, yes!” situations. Plus, you have Bojangles’, which is a HUGE win in my book. Southerners, keep on keeping on. Until I can wreak havoc down there again, I’ll be stuck in the middle.

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Hakuna Moscato

Hakuna Moscato (@HakunaMoscato) is a contributing writer for Total Sorority Move. and Post Grad Problems. A born and raised Maryland girl, she's obsessed with the Baltimore Ravens, Old Bay, and anything that has the Maryland flag pattern on it. She's a newly retired student-athlete and sorority girl, but not quite ready to call herself an adult, especially since she still has to be carried out of bars. With a Long Island in hand, she's ready for whatever life is throwing her way. Maybe.

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