April 15, 2011

The Belly of the Beast

Georgia is a wonderful state. I'll stipulate that up front. From the Appalachian Mountains to the Coastal Empire to the Golden Isles to the Okeefenokee Swamp it is exquisite. Even Atlanta is great.

Then, of course, there is that primordial horror known as southwest and south central Georgia. They grow lots of pecans and peanuts down there, but the soil is poor, and the denizens inbred and insolent. I know. Half of my family comes from there. I'm relatively sure they still practice chattel slavery in those parts. Sherman didn't burn it because there was nothing worth burning.

And so: I have a job interview down there on Tuesday. And I'm desperate enough to take the interview. The way I see it, I can find a nice little dirt farm on five acres and grow some strange fruits. Practice my bowhunting and firearms. Perhaps cross that color line that so absorbs my waking days. Get a cat to keep the rats at bay. Domesticate a few swine.

I need a hook, though. Something that will tell these creosote-huffers I'm in the Club. I was originally thinking a vagrant's scalp would be excellent wampum to splay upon the interview table.

That might be a bit bold.

So: holp a man out: what prize does one proffer at an initial interview that will calm these peoples' nerves? Think The Hills Have Eyes, here. Anything less than a freshly-removed opossum uterus will leave them a bit cold. My family foreswore lynchings a full two generations ago, so that's a non-starter (legendarily known for the 1955 family reunion at Callaway Gardens, where this issue was resolved once and for all. It is also known locally as the Who Will Wash My Car? Summit).

It's actually close to the Folkston Funnel, too, so a rail-rider's liver might work. I just want to do the right thing, socially.

Posted by Velociman at April 15, 2011 8:01 PM | TrackBack

Jar with a vagina in it

Posted by: JohnB at April 15, 2011 9:00 PM

In that case I'll be needing your vagina, John.

Posted by: Velociman at April 15, 2011 9:04 PM

Jug of Moonshine will soften anyone's craw. Just dont ask if he has a sister when you pop the cork.

Posted by: cheshirelion at April 15, 2011 9:25 PM

president's scalp ought to do it.

Posted by: at April 15, 2011 9:43 PM

A burn scar on the neck. Trust me on this. And a poe-esque eye, clouded and milky white. Don't even have to jam a stick in it, you can get one at the optometrists for eight bucks, a cloudy eye contact I think they call them. Just don't say anything with a yankee accent.

Posted by: og at April 15, 2011 10:51 PM

Mayhaps a nice ceement porch monkey for the HR supervisors front lawn.

Posted by: westsoundmodern at April 16, 2011 12:04 AM

Hmmm. East of the Okee Fen? Mebbe a moccasin with a half-digested bunny in its maw, it being Easter and such.

Heck. It's prolly overrun with Messicans by now. You may have to bring along some santaria tokens just in case.

Posted by: Joan of Argghh! at April 16, 2011 5:16 PM

Naw, they getting close to the 20th century. Bring saltines and vienna sausages

Posted by: Cletus Socrates at April 16, 2011 5:35 PM

Cletus, you right as rain. The J.R.'s people are from the Homerville/Lakeland area. Vienna sausages are a ritual item every vehicle, boat or fishing cabin.

Posted by: Joan of Argghh! at April 16, 2011 6:20 PM

Awlbinny, by any chance? Where they planted a brewery at the intersection of two B-52 capable runways, so the Mayor's (or the Mayor's brother-in-law, I misremember) FBO at the crummy municipal airport wouldn't suffer? It's been... migod, it's been forty years.

What I remember is CB radios, motorcycles, Estes-engine model rockets, and the neighbor who had two Studebaker Golden Hawks. Probably not relevant today. Lash one of those foam-and-fabric sixpack coolers to a Sam Browne belt and stock it with PBR, to share during the interview.


Posted by: Ric Locke at April 16, 2011 10:51 PM

Hobo pelt. Just make sure it's been properly cured long enough to no longer be rancid. Stake it out over a fire-ant mound for a day or two, that ought to do it.

Posted by: Larry at April 17, 2011 4:06 AM

So THAT'S who eats vienna sausages. I've been wondering. Here in the Pacific NW, I see cans of those things sitting on the shelf at the grocery store, and nobody seems to buy them.

Posted by: PeggyU at April 17, 2011 3:17 PM

Nehi Grape topped off with some peanuts.

Posted by: Yabu at April 18, 2011 7:38 AM

Big ass bag of Meth. Crackers loves crank.

Posted by: bitterman at April 18, 2011 4:41 PM

Also, they evidently have amazing amenities at the Folkston Funnel. No wonder they come from miles around to watch the trains. Two tracks! Prolly Parallel!

Posted by: Cletus Socrates at April 18, 2011 8:23 PM

I like balls...jus' sayin.

Posted by: Velociman at April 19, 2011 6:56 PM

Breaded and fried.....a little hot sauce

Posted by: Cletus Socrates at April 19, 2011 7:59 PM

A Bible and a 2 foot dead rattler, let them know you just came from a revival.

Posted by: Cocklebur at April 19, 2011 9:30 PM

Thank the Lord someone mentioned taking some 'shine to your interview.
I happen to sell a very fine 'shine, Old Suwannee.
Thirty years old, a quart is $30. Free delivery in the Pine and Palmetto area. I will bring it to your interview, but I cannot stay; I have other deliveries between Jax, Waycross, and Lake City.
Please e-mail your order.

Respectfully submitted,

Posted by: Mockingbird at April 19, 2011 10:01 PM
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