The Waiter Who Didn't "Y'all"
"And then, Watson," said Holmes, "there was the remarkable incident of the dog barking in the night."
"But, Holmes, the dog didn't bark at all during the night."
"Yes, Watson. That is exactly what is remarkable about it."
Once upon a time, we met a waiter that didn't "Y'all." The typical waiter/waitress is very polite: "Y'all follow me." "Y'all sit right down here." "Can I get y'all something to drink?" "Y'all ready to order?" And so forth. One gets used to it almost instantly. But the, being completely immersed in y'all, it comes as kind of a surprise when it's absent. The waiter last night sounded more formal than usual, despite being very young. Eventually, I asked. "You aren't a native, are you?" Surprisingly, he was. But he was proud of sounding like the clone California DJ. You never know. Or, y'all can never tell, really.
A couple days later, I realized that waitpersons, as a group down here, are only about half-y'all.
