Georgia: The first couple days

Wanted to give my loyal fans the rundown on my first couple days in Georgia. I've given different people different bits and pieces of the story but I'll start from the beginning.

Last Tuesday, my boss calls me into his office and his boss is in there too. I sit down and they both look of me, the first thing that goes through my head is, "oh fuck, I'm about to be fired!"

So then one of them says to me, "How would you like to go to Brunswick for 30 days?" And I already know about Brunswick and the fact that the company has a facility there and even though the thought of spending 30 days in rural south Georgia is not what I had in mind for the start of my summer, its just one of those things you can't say no to.

So here I am, I left on Thursday and had a fairly uneventful day of traveling. I flew from San Diego to Atlanta and then on to Brunswick. On my flight to Brunswick, I sat in a two person row with a guy who is one of those people that should be forced to buy 2 seats. I was sitting on the aisle (thankfully) and was folding my legs and arms all over myself trying to get them some space.

So I arrive Thursday night and they put me straight to work on Friday and Saturday. The people I work with are really funny (to me at least). A lot of them are sweet ladies in their 40s and 50s (and 70s) with Georgia accents. A lot of times they'll use expressions that don't make any sense in the literal sense so I don't know what they're talking about but they all seem to know. I wish I had more to this story because on of the old ladies used, "make it rain." Now, she wasn't talking about rain coming from the sky and she wasnt talking about showering strippers with dollar bills so I'm still not sure what she was saying. I guess you had to be there (like a geography joke).
The first day at lunch I tried to make friends right away so I sat with some guys and they spent the 45 minute lunch break talking about fishing and I didn't say a word. The only time I've ever gone fishing, I was 7 and didn't even bait my own hook (I bet that would have impressed them). So in terms of mixing up with the locals, day number one wasn't super productive. After work, I went home and caught up on sleep.

Saturday they had me back to work and this time I was driving cars. It was pretty cool driving some of the super nice BMWs they have here. I don't know much about cars but i drove one that went up to 200 on the odometer (but I did take it up that high :). That day I went to lunch with my boss and two guys that work in the body shop. These guys were good guys and all but again, not a whole lot in common. We went to Larry's subs. Larry's subs was run by a family (presumably Larry's) and it was the classic hick family. Anyway, the guys I ate with talked about the drag race they went to recently, or Sponge Bob (of which they were both experts). Then I got to see that ridiculous Laker game.

I spent the rest of Saturday sleeping or looking for something to do on Sunday. I thought I found something good; I was was going to head down to the semi-touristy St. Simons Island. I saw on this website that it had beaches and bike trails. So I thought this sounded pretty good. I start the day out walking in the direction of St. Simons and I end up walking to a Wal-mart to pick up and Ipod data cable and decide to stop at a small restaurant to have some lunch before I took a cab the rest of the 10 miles to the island. I walk into the restaurant (think Applebees but not called Applebees). I walk in and this is the exchange I have with one of the girls at the front desk:
"Didn't I see you walk by?"
"Yes, I needed to run an errand"
"Why'd you walk by and come back"
"I went to Wal-mart to pick something up."
"Are you from here?"
"No"
"Where are you from?"
"California"
"Why are you here"
"Business trip."
At this point one of the other girls steps in and chastises here for the grilling I'm getting and I ask jokingly, "Did I do something wrong?" Even though she was extremely rude to me, she wasn't trying to be a dick to me, she was just curious but I'm writing it because I've never had anything like that happen to me. So as I was leaving I ask for the girl to call me a cab. 15 minutes later my cab driver walks in and walks me to his cab. Now, I'm asking you to picture the definition of cowboy and thats who my cab driver was. Boots, jeans, a button up black shirt with orange flames and topped off with a cowboy hat. So we get into the cab and he introduces himself as "Country." Whoa. Country? Are you kidding me? The whole time we were talking I couldn't get over it. This was a Georgia boy through and through. It was funny, he was asking me questions about why I was visiting Georgia (Apparently I stick out like a sore thumb because Georgians can tell immediately that I'm not one of them). So I answered some questions and would usually respong, "I like your style." Then he asked me questions about how I liked Georgia and things like that usually responding to my answers with, "I like your style." The he rolled the windows up and put on the air and I said, "You know what, I wouldn't mind the fresh air blowing through here." You know what comes next, "Hey man, I like your style." I think I could have told him, "I think Country is a stupid name and you're a dumb redneck." I still think he would have told me he likes my style."

So he drops me off on St. Simons and I walk around a bit before going to look for a bike rental shop to tackle these bike trails. Its a nice place, a couple shops and a small beach but the island is mostly houses and swamps. So go to a bike rental shop and ask if they have a map or if they can direct me to one of these legendary bike trails. The disinterestedly hands me a map and sends me on my way. So I look at the map and it doesn't say anything about bike trails. I bike around the whole island and don't see anything. Apparently Georgia's definition of bike trails means paved sidewalks... next to streets... in the middle of the town. I just had to laugh about it because in no way shape or form were there "bike trails" but they fooled me into coming down and taking some of my money, well done.

I call up the cab company and ask for them to send Country to give me a ride home. The dispatcher says, "Country will be there in a few." I get picked up and this is the first time I notice the name tag on the dash, "Hayes Forbes." Hmm. As much as I want to believe that Country's name is actually Country (the dispatcher called him that too), the name tag on the dash throws some doubts in my mind. But it would break my heart for him not to be named Country, so I choose to believe although I'll probably never know.

It's been an interesting first couple days. I start a "special project" on Tuesday so then I'll have a better sense of why I'm here. Thanks for everyone calling, texting, and gtalking to me while I'm here.