A cold drink memory of the fifties.
The sweltering summer heat of the city was unbearable, so we three goodbuddies decide to hitchhike to a secret quarry for a cold swim. After our cold swim we walked to the road and sat down on the porch of a country store on the Dixie Highway US 31 and waited to dry out for the hitchhike back home.
We listen through the screen door as a man in overalls asks the man behind the counter for a "
Soo-dee Pop". We are easily amused. We roll all over the porch laughing. The man, we decide, is a ignorant coal miner from nearby Walker County.
A minute later an old man in old-man clothes comes in and orders a "
Dope". This is the funniest thing we've ever heard. We roll OFF the porch laughing. The man, we figger is a bumpkin from the backwood mountains deep in Blount County.
Then a big car pulls up. A man gets out and hurries into the store. "Gimmie a
Pop!" He said brusquely. We smiled knowingly. His rude manner gave him away, and besides, no one but a dadburn yankee would order a "
Pop".
After the yankee (spit) left we went into the store and said urbanely..."Three
cokes please". And then we added, "Yes, three 16 ounce RC Colas would be fine."
If a passerby on Highway 31 that day had happened to look our way he would have seen three young sophisticates sitting on the porch of Haygoods Store, sipping RC Colas, and discussing the funny, strange, peculiarities of other folks speech.
