Yankees

I went to Porky’s BBQ for lunch today and order their blackened catfish poboy, red beans and rice and strawberry soda. It was very fucking good, but there was a slight glitch.

I asked, as I do whenever I patronize any establishment with a Southern bent, “Do y’all have sweet tea?” You see, no one does sweet tea like we do in the South. No one. Sure, all it is is iced tea and shit tons of sugar, but Southerners tend to have gotten the ratio of sugar to tea down perfect.

“No we don’t,” the clerk said. “We used to, but no body ordered it.”

?????

“Fucking Yankees,” I harumphed. He laughed.

I get that here in California people tend to want to make better eating decisions. But when you go into an establishment that serves fried chicken, fried catfish, greens, sticky slobbery ribs and the like, what difference does sweet tea make to your health?

The correct answer is, “None.”

Fucking Yanks.