NORTH vs. SOUTH Part II

A line that stretched ten people long was waiting to get the permits for their music classes that they would register for the next day; unfortunately, I was number eight. A girl (Natalie) with brown hair and brown eyes who couldn’t find a soul in the line that she didn’t like; her sweet voice was welcoming. But her accent gave away that she was from Mississippi. As soon as she waltzed her way over to me to pull the facts about where I was from and where I went to school and what instrument I played, I knew that we would be friends. We became very close friends over the course of the two-day orientation. After waiting in this enormously long line for an hour and a half, we all new each other very well and by the time we left, we were known as the “music clique.” Natalie and the rest of the “music clique” insisted that I see Beale Street, get a slushy at Sonic, and fix my accent. “Pin” and “pen” were pronounced the same. “Naked” was pronounced “nEked”. “Ya’ll” was in place of “you guys”. “Down yonder” instead of “a few miles down the road” And I was wrong.