Welcome To North Carolina...

Welcome To North Carolina...

If you just moved to North Carolina, there are a few things you need to know before you fully assimilate into the culture. This isn’t written in any official handbook, but it should be.

First of all, Interstate 40 is not a highway. It is a lifelong group project that nobody finishes. No matter what time of day you drive it, there will always be orange cones, one confused worker holding a sign, and traffic backed up for absolutely no reason. North Carolinians don’t ask, “Is I-40 under construction?” We ask, “Which part today?”

Then there’s Charlotte traffic. Nobody understands Charlotte traffic. GPS doesn’t understand Charlotte traffic. Scientists don’t understand Charlotte traffic. You can leave your house at 2:17 PM on a Tuesday and somehow end up sitting still for 45 minutes wondering where all these people came from. Meanwhile, someone in a Nissan Altima with expired temporary tags is weaving through six lanes at the speed of sound.

Raleigh drivers are a completely different experience. In Raleigh, people brake because:

• a leaf moved
• sunlight hit the windshield wrong
• someone thought about merging
• there’s a curve ahead in three miles

You’ll be cruising along peacefully when suddenly every brake light in Wake County lights up like it’s the Second Coming.

And if someone invites you to Bojangles, understand this is not simply “grabbing food.” This is fellowship. This is tradition. This is spiritual. North Carolinians will fight harder over Bojangles seasoning than politics. If you say the biscuits are “just okay,” prepare to be escorted across state lines.

Now let’s discuss the Outer Banks. Tourists think the vacation begins when they arrive at the beach. Wrong. The Outer Banks traffic begins approximately six counties earlier. At some point, your GPS will estimate “Arrival Time: Eventually.” You’ll spend three hours moving one car length at a time while someone in the backseat asks if you’re “almost there” every six minutes.

And finally, perhaps the most important lesson of all:

“Bless your heart” is not kindness.

Context matters.

If someone says:
“Oh honey, bless your heart,”
you may have just been called incompetent, ridiculous, or spiritually exhausting.

Southern people can insult you, pray for you, and offer you sweet tea in the exact same sentence.

But despite all the traffic, construction, pollen thick enough to qualify as weather, and debates over eastern vs. western barbecue, North Carolina really is home to some of the best people you’ll ever meet.

Just don’t insult Bojangles while sitting in I-40 traffic on the way to the Outer Banks. That’s how fights start.