Atlanta. A’lan-a. The A-T-L. “Hot-lanta” even… If you’ve spent any significant amount of time in my fair city, you’ve heard it all. And then some. But what makes Atlantans stand out? What makes us who we are? Here’s my interpretation. You can probably relate, whether you’re a true native, or a transplant – if you’ve spent time in Atlanta, you can relate to these.
Signs You’re From Atlanta
- That second “t” is silent. The city is called “Aht/lan/nna”. Period. Ok, depending on how far back you can trace your roots, you may also omit the first “t”.
- Speaking of pronunciation, it’s called “Co-Cola”. And it umbrellas every brown carbonated beverage known to man. But drinking anything else is sacrilegious ’round here. That pesky “P” word may as well be a 4-letter-word…
- At least once, you’ve smugly told an out-of-towner to just follow 285, that it’ll lead them to their destination. You cheeky sunnuvagun!
- You know exactly what ITP and OTP mean!
- Even if you matriculated elsewhere, you’ve spent at least one night an hour northeast, in downtown Athens. But you probably don’t remember it.
- You’ve spent at least one St. Patrick’s Day a few hours south in beautiful Savannah. But you probably don’t remember it.
- You can find Piedmont, Centennial, and all the other cool free things to do around Atlanta.
- You know the rarity of meeting a “Grady Baby” or a “Northside Baby” who’s been here all his/her life.
- When reading Gone with the Wind, you can identify many of the streets and towns mentioned throughout the story.
- You’ve met at least one Dunwoody house wife. Probably playing tennis.
- You know where The Ted is, even if said Ted is on its way out.
- You also know where the (downtown) Varsity is.
- But you further know all the cool kids really prefer Zesto’s instead.
- You also know where The Big Chicken is.
- But chuckle whenever you hear someone say they live off a road named Peachtree.
- You can pinpoint precisely where “down yonder” is. And you’re fixin’ta go there. Y’all ever been?
- You know to bring a book for your morning commute, afternoon commute, or trip to the grocery store.
- IHOP SchmIHOP! If you want good (greasy) breakfast grub, you head to the Waffle House. After all, there’s one on almost every corner.
- You’ve rocked out to some Skynyrd at the Laser Show once or twice, and recently indulged in the closest thing Atlanta regularly gets to “snow” at Snow Mountain.
- You know at least a few folks who bleed red and black. And probably folks who prefer other colors, but -well- meh… You probably also know there’s an alternate spelling of “dog”, which is equally endearing, particularly ‘tween the hedges.
- …which means, you fully understand the sacred nature of football Saturdays in the fall.
- Even if you’re from the suburbs, you tell people you’re from Atlanta. Unless you live in Gwinnett County, then, inexplicably, you say you’re from Gwinnett.
- The only acceptable sweet tea is served in a styofoam cup from Chick-fil-a. But you’re aunt Nancy’s runs a very, very close second.
- Also, the only acceptable chicken sandwich is from Chick-fil-a. Nothing. Else. Comes. Close.
- You know the “metro Atlanta area” consists of approximately 1/3 of the state of Georgia, and growing.
- (amended in light of our recent winter weather) You’ve seen, firsthand, the absolute kindness of strangers, and -no matter how far north or south your roots are planted- you know the meaning of true Southern Hospitality.
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