Sweet Tea


Somebody asked me how sweet did our sweet tea have to be. Probably a Yankee. We Southerners don’t inquire as to how much sugar our Southern sweet tea drinkers use. We consider that rude.

However, I got to thinking about how much shortness on sugar our neighbors to the north have endured all these years, and I thought it might be good to enlighten them, for they know not how much they have missed.

A dab above a measured cup of sugar is normal for a quart of tea, but that’s not the whole story. Participating in the rest of it might be risky, depending on your circumstances.

Southern men who are lucky are married to their Southern beauty belles. They can simply lean over, and give her a kiss, and that kiss is the thermometer, I believe I meant barometer, of how sweet your tea should be when you take that first sip. Different sugars vary in sweetness, but never the sweetness of your Southern beauty belle’s lips. I guess I made the mistake of saying thermometer instead of barometer because that kiss might get you to thinking about other things, and on a family site such as this one, we don’t think about those things.

Now if you’re unfortunate not to be married to a Southern beauty belle, then that is when you run into hazards. You just can’t be sittin’ at a fast food table for that sandwich lunch, and you think you’ve sweetened the tea enough that you won’t be run out of the South, and there’s this Southern beauty belle sittin’ at the table next to you (Southern beauty belles have a certain glow about them, and that distinguishes them from all others). You lean over to her, and say, “Honey, I was told by a reliable source that I needed to kiss a Southern beauty belle before I took my first sip of tea to see if my tea is sweet enough.”

While you’re pickin’ yourself up off the floor, you realize your approach needs some polishing. Next day same scenario, different Southern beauty belle.

“Ma’am, I hate to be forward about this.”

While you’re pickin’ yourself up off the floor again, you realize your approach needs even more polishing. But what you don’t realize is how lucky you have been. What are the odds that on two consecutive days you would approach two Southern beauty belles, one right-handed, and the other left-handed?

Now on this third day your face is beet red on both sides from the considerable slaps those two Southern beauty belles have delivered, because there is one factor you need to consider, and that is a Southern beauty belle practiced slapping their brothers before they got to you. They also called their brothers twirps.

You change your approach for a different Southern beauty belle on this third day, hoping she will notice your flush red face, and take pity upon you, because Southern beauty belles in the right conditions, have an enormous amount of compassion for the injured. You sit there just glancing over at her, not trying to stare. You notice she is indeed looking at you. She speaks, “You pervert, your pants are unzipped.”

On the fourth day you try a different fast food eatery. You slide slowly into the chair of a table next to a Southern beauty belle. She speaks immediately. “I’ll bet you’re about to say you want to kiss me, because you’ve got to see if your tea is sweet enough when you take the first sip?”

“I, uh. I, uh, I, uh.”

She gets up to leave, and pats you on top of your head. “I’m normally not this forward.”

You’re still sitting there, “I, uh. I, uh.”

On the fifth day, there’s the same Southern beauty belle from the day before. She comes to your table, leans over and kisses you on the lips. You spill your tea. She takes her finger, sticks it in your tea glass for the little remaining ice tea, licks her finger, and says, “That is sweet enough.”

Now y’all quit thinking like that. Remember, this is a family oriented site.

You get back to work, and for the rest of the afternoon are explaining to everyone why your pants are so wet, “Sweet tea.”

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