A good now and again (excuse me, that was rather Southern of me) I say something rather Southern, and when I do, my friends from overseas tend to giggle just a little. They know this woman is from the Southwestern region of these United States. From time to time, whenever I'm asked, I will always tell a person that I'm from the Great State of Oklahoma. Most of the time, however, depending on how they ask, I may say, "I'm from a place where we don't use prepositions at the end of our sentences"; however, that would be a lie. Oklahomans do, most certainly, use prepositions at the end of their sentences. Just so you know.
Today, like just about any other day, when someone I'm speaking to, gets my goat up (another Southern idiom), I will go full South in my mouth! You'll hear it. You'll know it too. When a Southern woman speaks with intensity she tends to squint the corners of her eyes and draw her mouth up at the corners to bring in a bit of forced cordiality before...well, you know...before she tells you exactly what she's thinkin'. If she doesn't tell you exactly what she's thinkin' you may not live long enough to find a way to appease her and the whole situation.
Today, while on the phone with a "damager", which is what we call folks in our business who go around damaging other folks' commercial property, I had to use a few breathing techniques to subdue my tongue long enough to force kinder than I wanted to use words. I wanted to let the whoop out of the can but decided my job meant a lot more to me than anything or anyone on the other end of the line. I had to remind myself I wasn't speaking to anyone with any common sense. I was talking to a man who had purposely and repeatedly chosen to not call 8-1-1 before he dug and you know what he did. I don't even have to tell you -- you already know.
Now, before I say too much, I won't tell anyone who I work for. I won't say too many specifics about it, but what I do is adjust the liability factors when our clients bring a claim to our company seeking subrogation (third-party recovery) for said claim and for said liability. John D'Nothing, the man on the other side of the line, had the gull to say that folks in "that part of the world" meaning the Southern states, wouldn't know how to read the laws let alone be expected to understand them or adjudicate terms of liability to him - - he was what my mother would call a "know-it-all" and what my daddy would call a "prick". You know my daddy didn't want me tellin' my mama what he said about people, you know that.
As the boy continued to dig a hole too deep to crawl out of, I nearly asked him if he'd had the smarts to call 8-1-1 for that as well. He was digging and digging aimlessly, wantonly, and apparently with complete abandonment because there was just enough grace left in me by the time he finished wringing what was left of my last nerve, that I all but went dead silent on the man. The damn fool had no idea what that would mean, of course, he probably thought it meant he had the upper hand in the matter.
Well, I paused, like I said, not saying a thing. I asked him politely if he was finished. He laughed and said he was. I then, in the sweetest drawl I could muster, told the gentleman that I had heard and recorded every word he had said; that most of what he was saying over the lines was both illegal and would be turned over to the legal department for review, but not only that, I had fully intended to make a copy of the recording for his employer (a major insurance carrier) allowing them to understand why it was that I would be bringing abuse charges against the man for his hostility toward me, and his false accusations of my person, not to mention the discriminatory remarks he chose to hide behind involving my race, gender, and age.
When he exploded and told me I had no right to record him, I reminded him that the laws of the state of Oklahoma are not the same as the laws in the state of New York, (thank God) and that I was fully within my rights to expose him to his employer for who and what he was. I then, in the sweetest of Southern language, stated that I would be willing to negotiate with him regarding the potential charges if he would take another look at the damage report I had emailed him a week or two before; the one with supporting documents to prove my point...points.
It was right about that time that the man on the other end of the phone became quite quiet...you could have heard his heart beating if you listened closely enough. I took that to mean I had the upper hand in the matter, so I politely closed the conversation with the following statement: "Living here in the South has its privileges. We may not be as sophisticated as you folks up that way, but we do know a good game of football, and we have the best BBQ to boot. You have yourself a good evening now and don't forget to call me next week when you've come to your senses about this claim. Good night now, and remember to kiss your mama when you see her!"
I thank God EVERY DAY for the Great State of Oklahoma, and everything it ever meant to me.
Photo Credit: Way.com
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