Not as windy as advertised...

A few weeks ago I spent quite a bit of time in the Midwest. Chicago, Milwaukee, Green Bay, and Cedar Rapids...Three states in one day (twice). Quite the long trip, and I've got another exciting trip to North Carolina coming up next week. I don't do much traveling in the south for some reason. I don't mind the north too much, don't really mind the east coast...Just two problems really; The food and the ridicule of my Texan drawl. Seems like the further north I go, the less people season their food. Yankees, what's up with that? You've got access to the same stuff, why not throw some cayenne pepper on those steaks? Little salt on the potatoes? Something, anything to give that food a kick. And please, please stop cooking mexican food. As a general rule I try not to eat mexican food any further north than Oklahoma, it's just not right. Case in point, Milwaukee. I'm in a nice restaurant, the waitress brings me the menu and informs me of their specials. Among these "specials" is the fajitas. I think back to my rule about mexican food, then disregard it. Mistake. They bring me my beef fajitas, which consist of the following ingredients (in their entirety):

A) Beef
B) Onions
C) That's it.

That's right. No bell peppers, no jalapenos, no seasoning, AND NO TORTILLAS. That's a pretty integral part of the fajita plate. Without tortillas it's just meat. It'd be like ordering tacos and getting ground beef on a plate, or ordering a hot dog and only getting the wiener...IT JUST DOESN'T MAKE SENSE. My mind was blown. Surely this lack of tortillas was a mistake. I ask the waitress "Ma'am, could you bring me the tortillas?" She looked at me like a confused puppy. "tortillas?" She asked. "You know, round, flat, flour tortillas...You put the meat in them." My plea fell on deaf and dumb ears. I may as well have asked for turd pie. She had no clue. So, mexican food up north rule...Reinforced.

The Texan drawl thing gets me into more trouble than anything. I consult with people from all walks of life. From the board room to the mechanic, all with differing opinions on my dialect. The people from the board room think I'm a moron, and the mechanics think I want to fight. I am, and I want neither. I've tried to acclimate my accent depending on the region I'm in, but I gave up. I just couldn't force myself to say "Wisscaaansin". I try to limit my Texan sayings though, like "fixin-to". It's a freakin verb in my part of the country, everyone says it. Heck, the English teachers make us conjugate it. Example "We're fixin-to go to the store". It just fits. What do you want me to say "We're getting ready to go to the store"? I think not. It was also pointed out to me that I say "Awright" instead of "All Right". Little things like that make me happy to come back home. Why can't they send me to Alabama, or Georgia, or Tennessee. I have all of my teeth, a high school diploma, and a family tree that has more than two branches, I'd be freakin royalty. But nay, they send me up north to be put to sleep by the food, and persecuted for my sexy Texan accent. Go figure.