In a world where a New Yorker's five-minute errand in Texas turned into a two-hour social event complete with homemade biscuits and unsolicited BBQ recommendations, the cultural divide between North and South has never been more hilariously real.
Ever walk into a room in Texas and have every single person stop what they're doing to greet you? I did, about three years ago when I first moved to Austin from New York City.
Picture this: I'm at a small hardware store, looking for a specific type of screw for my kitchen renovation. A guy I'd never met before not only helped me find it but spent twenty minutes asking about my project, where I was from, and whether I'd tried the BBQ place down the street yet.
When I mentioned I was new in town, he insisted on writing down five other places I "absolutely had to try."
My first thought? What's this guy's angle? Is he trying to sell me something?
Turns out, he was just being Southern.
After spending my formative years between Boston and NYC, where eye contact with strangers is practically a declaration of war, this level of friendliness felt performative. Fake, even. But here's the thing: after three years in Austin, I've learned that what Northerners often perceive as disingenuous is actually a deeply ingrained cultural code.
Today, we're diving into seven things Southerners consider basic manners that folks from up North might mistake for an elaborate social performance. Trust me, understanding these differences has transformed how I navigate both my personal and professional relationships down here.
1. Greeting every single person you encounter
Remember that hardware store story? That's just the tip of the iceberg.
Down here, you acknowledge everyone. The person passing you on the sidewalk. The cashier at the grocery store. The guy pumping gas next to you. It's not optional.
Growing up in Boston, keeping your head down and minding your business was considered polite. You didn't bother people. You respected their personal space and their right to go about their day uninterrupted.
But in the South? Not saying hello is the equivalent of flipping someone off.
I learned this the hard way during my first week in Austin. I walked past my neighbor while checking my phone, didn't say anything, and for the next month, she thought I was "troubled" and "going through something." She actually brought me a casserole because she was worried about me.
The thing is, once you get used to it, there's something genuinely pleasant about acknowledging other humans throughout your day. It creates this subtle sense of community that I never experienced in the Northeast.
2. Small talk that goes way beyond small
In New York, small talk meant commenting on the weather for exactly three seconds before getting to the point.
In the South? Buckle up.
That conversation about the weather will naturally flow into a discussion about your grandmother's arthritis, which reminds them of their aunt's hip replacement, which leads to a story about the time they drove her to Memphis for the surgery and discovered the best fried chicken place off Highway 40.
When I first started hosting dinner parties down here, I was shocked at how long it took to actually get to dinner. People would arrive and spend an hour just talking in the kitchen. Real talking. About their kids, their jobs, their mama's new boyfriend, their thoughts on the construction downtown.
At first, this drove me crazy. I had appetizers getting cold! We had a whole schedule! But I've learned that this extended small talk serves a purpose. It's relationship building. It's community formation. It's how Southerners determine if you're "good people."
3. The aggressive hospitality
You haven't experienced aggressive hospitality until you've tried to leave a Southern home without eating something.
It doesn't matter if you just ate. It doesn't matter if you're on a diet. It doesn't matter if you're literally holding food in your hand from somewhere else. You will be offered food, and declining it requires the diplomatic skills of a UN negotiator.
I once stopped by a colleague's house to drop off some paperwork. Five minutes, tops. I left two hours later, full of homemade biscuits, sweet tea, and something called "pimento cheese" that I'm still not sure about but ate anyway because saying no wasn't really an option.
In the Northeast, offering food once was polite. Twice was pushy. Three times and you were being weird. But here? The offers don't stop until you eat something. It's like they've staked their entire reputation on whether or not you'll try their banana pudding.
4. Saying "ma'am" and "sir" to literally everyone
The first time a twenty-year-old called me "sir," I checked behind me to see if my dad had suddenly appeared.
In Boston, "sir" was reserved for judges, elderly men, and maybe your friend's intimidating father. Using it liberally would have seemed sarcastic or overly formal.
But in the South, these titles are tossed around like confetti. The teenager bagging your groceries says "yes ma'am." Your coworker who's the same age as you says "no sir." Children address adults this way without being prompted.
What really threw me was when I noticed people using these terms with folks clearly younger than them. It's not about age or status. It's about respect as a default setting.
5. The "bless your heart" phenomenon and indirect communication
Northerners pride themselves on being direct. We say what we mean. No sugar coating. No beating around the bush.
Southerners? They've elevated indirect communication to an art form.
"Bless your heart" can mean anything from genuine sympathy to "you're an absolute idiot." The interpretation depends entirely on context, tone, and facial expression. It's like trying to decode a secret language where all the rules keep changing.
Instead of saying "That's a terrible idea," a Southerner might say, "Well, that's certainly different!" Instead of "You look terrible," it's "You look tired, honey." Instead of "Your cooking sucks," it's "This is interesting! What's in it?"
At first, this drove me nuts. Just tell me if my presentation was bad! But I've come to appreciate the intent behind it. It's about preserving dignity, avoiding confrontation, and maintaining social harmony.
6. The thank you note industrial complex
You know what we did after receiving a gift in Boston? We said thanks. Maybe sent a text. Done.
In the South? Written thank you notes aren't just nice. They're mandatory.
Thank you for the dinner invitation. Thank you for the birthday gift. Thank you for the thank you note you sent me. I'm barely exaggerating.
I once received a thank you note for bringing a bottle of wine to a dinner party. A bottle of wine! That's like thanking someone for wearing pants. It's the absolute minimum.
But here's what I've learned: these notes aren't really about the gift or the gesture. They're about maintaining connections, acknowledging effort, and creating a paper trail of appreciation that binds communities together.
7. The goodbye that never ends
Finally, let's talk about leaving. In New York, when you said you were leaving, you left. Maybe a quick "bye" on your way out. Efficient. Clean. Done.
In the South? Saying goodbye is a production that rivals Broadway.
First, you announce you're leaving. Then you have a fifteen-minute conversation standing up. Then you slowly migrate toward the door while having another conversation. Then you stand in the doorway for ten minutes. Then you walk to your car while still talking. Then you have a final exchange through your car window.
I once tried to Irish goodbye at a Southern gathering. The hosts called me the next day to make sure I was okay and hadn't had some kind of emergency.
Final thoughts
Look, I get why Northerners might see all this as fake. When you're used to a culture that values efficiency and directness, all these elaborate social rituals can seem performative.
But here's what three years in the South has taught me: these aren't empty gestures. They're the building blocks of a culture that prioritizes relationships over transactions, community over independence, and kindness as a default rather than an exception.
Sure, it takes me longer to buy groceries now because I'll inevitably end up in three conversations. Yes, my dinner parties start an hour later than planned. And yeah, I now own more thank you cards than I ever thought possible.
But I also know my neighbors' names. I have people checking on me when I'm sick. I'm part of a community in a way I never was up North.
Maybe it's not fake. Maybe it's just different. And maybe, just maybe, we could all use a little more of that Southern kindness in our lives.
Even if it does take forever to say goodbye.
