I took my car in for an oil change today and, boy – that was an experience.
The place was packed. The phone rang off the hook. The man behind the counter answered it with a booming, “CHA-pahl HEE-ul Tahr,” competing with the chatter of waiting customers, clanging of tools and the crackling TV. The program of choice was a women’s gymnastics meet, for which the announcer droned on about the competitors’ stylistic choices. A rather bizarre program choice for an auto shop, I thought, and several others concurred aloud.
Despite the many employees who were standing post behind the counter, the wait for my service was more than two hours. (I try to remind myself that things move more slowly in the South, so I’ve heard.) After playing numerous rounds of Brick Breaker on my phone I grabbed a newspaper and flipped to the crossword puzzle.
I find that pretending to work a crossword affords an opportunity to people-watch without looking overtly creepy or demented. They think you’re deeply contemplating that six-letter word for an ancient counting device . . . or, whatever.
Brad Pitt in 'A River Runs Through It' (Photo from Google.com)
Anyway, these two men were jabbering on about their kids’ team sports league, the happenings of their Memorial Day weekends and other such mundane blather. Then, they got on the subject of fishing.
Now, I’ve never been fishing in my life. Not that I would count as “real” fishing. I did dangle a fishing line into a tiny trickle of a man-made river at a Phoenix resort as a child, but that’s about as close to fishing as running through sprinklers is to getting caught in a thunderstorm.
These guys, though – they were really into it. They debated rivers and lakes, poles, bait and tackle and lures, time of day, time of year, fresh water versus salt water, and on and on and on. They talked about fishing for like, an hour. And other people chimed in.
Eventually, ill-equipped to contribute to the jargon-filled banter regarding their catch stats, I inwardly meandered to images of rivers and fishing. I realized there’s hardly a movie I’ve seen that’s set in the South and doesn’t include a scene set down by a river – wading, fishing, swimming, sitting.
Other than that (which a pretty good reason, I guess) I don’t know why I automatically associate fishing with the South. I suppose for those who fish recreationally, the South is the place to be. It’s warm and there’s lots of lakes, ponds, rivers, coastline and, of course, the Gulf of Mexico.
While I don’t imagine myself taking up fishing as regular hobby, I would like to try it sometime. For now, I’ll leave it to Forrest Gump and the other seasoned pros:
Grits & Greens 