This morning I decided to go get a state ID, in my endless quest for establishing residency in North Carolina (in-state tuition, here I come!). Before being turned away for not having the requisite 20 forms of ID and 60 days' proof of residency, I overheard this gem of a conversation between two of the DMV officers.
"Did you see that flashy Eur-o-pee-an car?"
"What did he say it was called? A Min-ee Coo-per?"
Imagine all this said with thick Southern accents. Pauses and all. Priceless.
Sometimes, living in Chapel Hill makes me forget that I really am in the South. But then little times like these remind me that I am far, far away from home.
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