The Yankees are Shopping!!! The Yankees are Shopping!!!

In Charleston they don’t talk about the Civil War.

They refer to a skirmish they call “The war of Northern Aggression.”

We went on the Fort Sumter tour.

At first I thought the ferry ride over was full of actual Civil War veterans. Then I realized that these were just people that couldn’t afford a Florida cruise.

“Hey Murray can you believe the price of a hot dog on this ferry?”

“It’s two o’clock.”

“I said can you believe the price of a hot dog on this ferry?”

“Who’s a fairy?”

“Murray!!! Turn your hearing aid on!!!”

“Well you don’t have to shout! Did we eat?”

I discovered something in Charleston.

Every meal is called supper. Breakfast, lunch, dinner it doesn’t matter, it’s supper.

And at every meal they serve something called sweet tea.

Sweet tea is... well... It’s… uh… sweet.

We ate at one place where you get “peach infused” tea and a little tiny carafe of “sugar water” to make your tea sweeter.

Um… They serve carafes of sugar water.

I will repeat that.

They serve carafes of sugar water.

I’m pretty sure I can cure diabetes in Charleston.

I think if I ever move to South Carolina I’m starting a dental practice.

One evening they served us something called a “Mint Julep.”

I realized after I tasted the first one why tattoo parlors were outlawed in Charleston. Because there is no doubt in my mind that if I drank anymore of these I was going to end up in the driveway of a plantation passed out wearing nothing but one sock with a confederate flag tattooed on my ass.

2 cups bourbon, 2 cups sugar, 2 cups water, crushed ice, mint and a paramedic. That’s the recipe for a “Mint Julep.”

Uh… I think I know why they lost the war.

They have a Starbucks in Charleston. The main difference between a Starbucks in Charleston and a Starbucks in San Diego is that the tattooed, pierced, freak behind the counter in Charleston isn’t as rude.

“Ya’all’d” like that latte in a Venti?”

My wife spent her days either in the spa or shopping. Shopping is an old southern tradition. At least that’s what she told me.

The stores there are the same stores in California which confused me. Why did my wife need to go into the Cache, or bebe or the Victoria’s Secret Store in Charleston when we have the exact same stores in San Diego?

“Because…. the clothes aren’t the same.”

“Oh… well duh… I should have known.”

She dragged me into Victoria’s Secret. I always feel like a pervert in there. A pervert that’s about to spend a ton of money.

Well if I’m going to stand around looking like an idiot then I’m taking advantage of the situation.

They had a sign on the wall that read, “THE WORLD”S MOST ADVANCED BRA.”

Um… it’s a bra.

How advanced does this need to be?

Who’s doing the research on this?

Is this some program at MIT they’re not telling anyone about?

“Excuse me.”

“Yessuh.”

“Does that bra come with a built in camera phone and an MP3 player?”

“Excuse me suh?”

“That worlds most advanced bra right? It must have pretty snazzy features. Will it charge my ipod?”

“It’s a bra suh, it just holds breasts.” (I’m not making this up.)

“Well hell, I can do that. OUCH!!! Jesus honey let go of my ear.”

“Stop harassing this girl.”

“I was just asking a technical question about the “world’s most advance bra.”

“Don’t be an idiot. Go wait outside.”

(YES!!!!!)

(to be continued)