Maybe 25 + years ago, we landed at Charlotte N.C. around 10.00 p.m. en route to a rented vacation home on the Piper Glen estates.
The directions, printed out by the agent in U.K., included, after passing a Hess gas station, you’ll come to a traffic light, with a Pizza Hut on the corner, take the second left after that, and the house is at the end of that street, on the left.
I said to my wife, “Hungry? Want to hit the Hut?”
She said, “I’m a bit tired, get one, and we’ll get to the house, eat it, then crash out.”
We went in, I checked the menu, and ordered a large one with extra jalapeños and Italian sausage, and a couple of root beers.
The attractive young black female clerk, said, “Y’all gonna eat in, or y’all want that to go?”
My wife said, “To go please.”
According to the menu, this was about $14 plus tax I think, I fished out a twenty, and the girl said, “Gimme ten bucks sweet cheeks, ah jest lurve yo accent!”
Man, I love that special relationship.
