My co-workers are determined to Southern-ize me

It started the 2nd week I worked here. Once they decided I wasn't a snobby girl from the north, and just an okay girl from the north, they began my education.

First lesson, southern words and phrases. Here are a few:

"Drew up": the action of pants or shirts shrinking in the wash. used in a sentence, "Those pants don't fit anymore because they drew up."
"Fixin": working on, going to, on your way to doing... used in a sentence, "I'm fixin' to take my lunch break."
"Usta could": used to describe something that once was, or you once were able to do. used in a sentence, "Well, ya usta could turn left there, but now they done turned it into a one way street."
"Y'all": self explanatory :)
"Buggy": Shopping cart at the grocery store

Second Lesson, Moon Pies. (normally accompanied by RC Cola, but that's another story...)
To a northern girl, a moon pie tastes like marshmallow fluff spread in between two soft graham cracker like cookies dipped in waxy chocolate. Someone at work gave me one of these, and told me I had to heat it up. So, when I tasted it, the chocolate was just a little melty and the the marshmallow filing was puffed up. It was just okay. But since then I've been known to buy one every now and then. They grow on you. A tip for northerners: stick to chocolate and vanilla, stay away from the banana flavor.

There have been many lessons along the way, and I suppose I'm fitting in pretty well, but the latest lesson was almost too much for me.

One day last week I happened to walk into a conversation I soon regretted. Some of my favorite people at work were talking about "Krystal's" (as they like to call it), and how they were both craving a "Krystal." I said, "oh really, I've never had one of those." Both women turned to me in shock. It was as if I had said, "I've never been to McDonald's." But it was worse than that, it was as if I hadn't fully lived. So I was warned that someday one of them would "pick me up a Krystal or two." (they like to personally introduce me to these things, and watch me closely as I try them for the first time.)

So yesterday, two small boxes showed up on my desk. I knew I couldn't risk offending the person for her sweet gesture... so I ate them. Yes, friends, I ate two "Krystals." And I must say, they didn't taste too bad. As I fought the overwhelming sense that I was doing something awful to my body, I chowed down on two greasy, gooey, oniony sandwiches.

Afterward, all I could think about was how unhealthy I felt. (it wasn't until later that night that my stomach reacted badly, but that is a story I will not be sharing.) Overall, I felt that I was honor-bound to at least give Krystal's a try. I can now say that I have tasted a Krystal. However, you will not see me going through that drive through anytime soon.

Dear South,
I like you a lot, but I don't like you enough to eat your favorite fast food.
I hope you can forgive me.
Love,