Alabama Day One

Later today I will begin looking for a job. I am excitedly anticipating the possibilities. My future is an unknown. I love to discover and explore. I love change.

Last week, after getting rid of a lot of junk, I moved to Tuscaloosa, Alabama in a rented SUV. After dropping that vehicle off near the Birmingham airport and getting into a tiny Toyota Yaris, I spied a thrift store and decided to check it out. Thrift stores are one of my favorite things; and I was in need of a few items.

Although the store didn’t advertise that it was church affiliated, a Baptist preacher blared overhead. There wasn’t much to be found other than furniture, but I picked up some cat dishes and my girlfriend (the reason for the move) found two large bags she thought might be good for carrying things while bicycling.

“How ya’ll doin’?” the checkout lady inquired earnestly. “What’s your t-shirt say? Whaaat wouuuld P-P-Pycird do… I guess I don’t know what that means.” Behind her were a picture of Jesus and some Bible verses.

“It’s a Star Trek reference,” I muttered, not bothering to explain further or correct her mispronunciation of the Next Generation captain’s name. “I don’t need a bag,” I quickly added as she reached for one.

“That’s alright, I’m gonna give you one anyway. Everyone’s special in this place.” Um, oookay. I dared not protest, although ‘the environment’s special, too,’ came to mind. “I’ll wrap these bowls for ya’ll too.” My girlfriend had gone to look at a dress or something, so the cashier was using ‘ya’ll’ as a singular pronoun.

“Thanks.”

“Wow, what’s that on your arm? That’s different,” she observed rhetorically. The last time someone commented on my arm tattoo was in the Atlanta airport. In my recent hometown of Portland, people are more likely to ask why you don’t have a tattoo. “I like tattoos,” she quickly added.

“Me too.” I attempted to hide the dryness in my voice.

“Ya’ll on vacation?” In retrospect, the nature of the query is obvious, but at the time it caught me completely off-guard. Why in hell would anybody go to Alabama on vacation? I naively assumed that she was asking because of the bags, which she was currently ridiculously shoving into a plastic bag.

“No, we’re just buying a couple bags,” I replied strangely as my girlfriend appeared.

“How ya’ll doin’?” Once again, the cashier managed to make what one would assume to be a frivolous comment not sound automatic.

My girlfriend smiled, “Fine thanks.” I paid for the items.

“Ya’ll have blessed day,” she said to me. Going out of her way to lean toward my girlfriend, she added, “Ya’ll have a blessed day, too.”