Just a Yankee Living In The South

I don't tell many people that I am from Ohio. I don't know why it doesn't come up too often, but sometimes it might explain why I am the way I am.
How am I? You may ask.
Somehow, just different......

Don't get me wrong, I have embraced the "Southern Way". In fact, I have the accent to prove it! This is one of the first lessons that I learned when I moved here: "If it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it has to be assumed that it is a duck." So to speak.

One thing that I have noticed is my attitude about unions. I have never worked for a union, in fact, I have worked for places that post warnings of what to do if you are approached by a union official. The instructions were in bold and said, "We are not affiliated with a union. If you are asked to join a union, seek out a manager and report the incident IMMEDIATELY."

I have family members who have worked for union supported industries for years, and have reaped benefits as a result. The only drawback I have seen is that if the company you work for goes on strike, and you don't cross the picket line, you don't get paid and you of course, cannot work. Realistically, if you have to make a living to either support yourself, or your children, you could be in a pickle.

My take on unions is that they serve their purpose. Now, the affiliation with organized crime does concern me a little bit, well, for my family members who belong to a union. I have visions of riots, and the appearance of Haffa, but come on...this is quite an impossible realization, isn't it?

Unions have one goal that appeals to me, protection of the worker. Have you ever been fired? Just told one day "It is not working out, sorry." I have to say that experience makes you feel like the floor beneath you has just collapsed. Yeah, I have worked for some pretty sorry folks. You get a huge bonus one week, and the next week, you are sent packing. No thanks. Keep your stupid bonus and just be straight with me. Tell me what is on your mind. What is bothering you? I know that I am a hard worker, but for some reason I tend to drive managers bonkers.

Why? I guess I have to admit that I am a little gruff. If something is on my mind, I say it, most of the time. One time, a manager told me that he did not like the expression on my face. This same manager again, a few weeks later, began yelling uncontrollably. I thought he was going to have a heart attack as a result of the level of stress he was obviously experiencing. While I was focusing on how to determine the very moment I would have to dial 911, he started yelling at me because I wasn't crying. Crying? Are you kidding me? You are about to have a meltdown, about I don't even know what, and you are mad because I am not crying? I cry at sad movies, when I fall down and skin my knee. I don't cry when you are making yourself look like a fool.

I don't date well. What I mean by this is that when I am thinking something, oftentimes, I say it. If you are an idiot, I guess I will tell you. I don't really care if you don't like what I have to say. So, just give me a good book, and leave me alone.

Being alone is not so bad. I don't have to deal with the mental game playing that I have discovered many men enjoy playing. Example, I say, " Oh, I love that song." He changes the station. I dress in slacks to go with him to his parent's house. He says, "Why don't you just wear blue jeans like the rest of us?" I say, "Buy me a pair that fits me." He says, "We are going to dinner, so please be cool." I say, "Cool is my middle name." And, then, I grab the napkin and tuck it in my shirt at the table. Hey, it keeps food from messing up my outfit. Get a clue.