Mississippi makes Alabama look like Malibu. The only time in my my life I've ever felt genuine concern of the "y'all ain't from around here, is ye?" variety was the time my wife and I were driving back from California to Virginia. She had a cool bleached pixie cut and I had big rockabilly sideburns and my hair close-cropped sides/back with a bit of a pomp/cascade up front. Our car had California plates, of course.
We pull off the freeway and stop at a Krystal and it was like every cowboy movie you've ever seen where the stranger walks in and everyone - everyone - stops what they're doing and you could hear a pin drop. I'm sure thoughts of "WTF is this faggoty-looking fag and his dyke-looking sister-in-law stopping in our town for?" crossed everyone's mind...the employees, every customer, etc.
We ordered our food and got the hell out of there before we got beaten and hung on a fence or something.
Mind you, she and I were both born and raised in the South for 20+ years. We simply didn't have the standard small-town Mississippi look (bloated, starchy, pasty, sunken-eyed, snaggletoothed, muffin-top, etc.), so we were automatically uppity aliens from another solar system to these folks. And the hatred/disdain directed our way was palpable.
"You one of them there MTV queers and got your dope-smoking groupie, ain't ya?"
I truly believe if either of us had been alone, we would've taken a beating before getting back to our car.
This was over 15 years ago, and I still hate Mississippi. I've been to/through it about three times since, and I've never really encountered a pleasant, agreeable person. It deserves to be last in all the Rankings That Matter.
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