Southern Girls and Snowbirds | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Southern Girls and Snowbirds | Previous Challenge Entry
By Brenda Rice
07/14/15
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While watching the sun set over the Gulf of Mexico, I suddenly remembered that summer was coming to an end. This was my sister’s least favorite time of year. Thinking about the snowbirds arriving in a couple of months always put her on a downer. As for me—I kinda liked the change in season, as well as the change in people.

I’m Sadie and my sister is Katy. No we aren’t twins. I’m two years older. We took over the family business in the fall of 2005. Our parents opened the restaurant in 1975, but after Dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, they turned the business over to us.

I think Dad’s illness has something to do with Katy getting into a snit every year about this time. I admit I get exasperated with her bad attitudes about snowbirds. She doesn’t like the way they dress. She says their accents confuse her when she’s taking their orders. She complains about the way they complaint about our southern menu.

Once someone asked her if we served cathead biscuits and when she said we did, three snowbirds got up to leave. I asked if there was problem. “Of course there is a problem. We love cats and we refuse to eat anywhere their heads are on the menu.”

Another time Katy tried to interest a snowbird in an order of grits. The lady trying to be polite said, “I’ve never eaten one of those before. Are they fried or grilled?”

Southern Girls is one block from the Gulf of Mexico in lazy Hapville, Florida. Sandy shoes have long been an issue for my sister. I can hear her now fussing up a storm about the dirt moving sandals a lot of snowbirds wear. “Isn’t there one manufacturer up north making smooth bottom sandals?”

“Katy, I’ll sweep the mat again. I wish you would have a better attitude at work. These customers pay our bills the last time I checked.”

As I began sweeping the mat, a rather large man in seersucker plaid shorts and a Hawaiian print shirt came up, and stomped his white socked and sandal clad feet leaving a pile of sand. He just looked at me, smiled and went inside.

Momentarily the spirit of Katy came over me, but I successfully squelched it and dutifully swept the mat, again. That’s when I caught a glimpse of Katy with her smirkey smile watching me.

Once inside I began taking orders. When I came to the man with the white socks and dirt moving sandals, I plastered on my sweetest smile. “May I bring you a cup of coffee before you order?”

In a heavy accent, the man acknowledged my request, “Why thank you. I like my coffee black.”

Returning with his coffee, I asked for his food order. “Today I’d like one of those cathead biscuits, a side of your creamy grits, and a side of your crispy fried bacon. I’m breaking all my food rules, because your food is quite delicious.”

Then he said, “I feel bad about leaving all that sand on your mat.” I tried to make a protest, but he shushed me. “Please let me continue. I’ve noticed over my visits here how nice you are to everyone, and I felt the Lord prompt me to bless you today. Please accept my tip of one thousand dollars.”

Overwhelmed, I shook my head, no-o-o! “I can’t accept that. I’m just doing my job.”

“Yes you are and doing a fine job indeed. Being a snowbird, I have received some less that pleasant treatment. I’ve been ridiculed about my clothes, my Bostonian accent and yes, even my sandals. It happened here just last winter.”

“Do you mean here as in Southern Girls? Please accept my apology and your meal is free.” I gave Katy a look that would freeze water.

“No, today is your day for a blessing. After last winter, I took a good look at myself and realized if I’m happy with my appearance, it’s alright if others find me amusing. God created all of us to be individuals, and He obviously has a bold sense of humor. Considering some southern fashions I observed.”

I accepted his tip and made a mental note to share the money with all the servers for the next week . . . all except Katy. I figured that would adjust her attitude before the snowbirds fly south again.

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