Southern Charm - My partner and I recently drove down (and back) to Florida to visit some family, have a holiday and get some scuba diving in. It's been years since I've been south of the Mason-Dixon other than one trip to Florida (which we flew to) to go to a lesbian resort in the Keys. So, I was a little anxious about how we'd be treated as a same-sex couple and with me not exactly being "girly."

I'll admit, I was preparing for the worst. We were, after all, driving through a part of the country where the only billboards that outnumber the roadside cross displays are for strip clubs and fireworks stores. And of course, the only radio stations available are country ones with people singing about losing or gaining back their lovers, dogs and trucks or Christian stations proclaiming the evils of homosexuality, feminism and the Democratic party.

Getting a hotel room our first night, though, set the tone for most of our travels in a way that caught me quite by surprise.

We didn't make any reservations ahead of time because we weren't sure how far we would get each day. So when we were told our first night on the road that the first place we tried had one room left, we were relieved. But, the desk clerk, who was as friendly as could be, asked us a question in a slow southern drawl that completely threw me off, "The one room we have left only has one bed in it. Is that alright with you girls?"

Huh? Is one bed ok? Ummm, yeah, one bed is preferred. In fact one bed is a requirement in my world!

The whole way down and back, we were consistently asked things like, "Did y'all want separate checks?" and "Is sharing a bed ok with y'all 'cuz we only have one room left?"

I was expecting nothing but harassment on this road trip but it turns out all there was was a very anti-climatic invisibility.

Or was it? It's been a week since we got back and I'm still trying to figure out if it was ignorance/obliviousness or just a form of Southern "politeness" which dictates that in the case of some social situation that feels awkward to you, you just ignore the obvious and label it as something else (like, "Oh, isn't that hairdo just lovely, it covers up that goiter so nicely.")

While it was nice to not have people harassing me to my face, I think I still prefer the native New York way of telling someone exactly what you think of them. And of course my absolute preference is the way I get treated here North-North of the Mason-Dixon: that I can be queer, visible and fully accepted!