Sunday, March 20, 2011

Southern Belle Side Note: A friend worth peeing on...

In honor of Women's History Month, I thought I would share a bit of my own history about none other than my very best friend... a friend worth peeing on.


Background

Her name is Sara (pronounced Sair-uh) while my name is Sarah (which we jokingly pronounce Sair-Huhhhhhh for the "h"); there is something about Sara(h)s where we tend to attract each other. 

We were both born in the same town, went to the same school for a few years, attended the same church for even longer and spent many a YMCA work-out class giggling and sweating together which cemented our friendship. 

Fortunately, that has allowed our relationship to survive long-distance in college as we go to schools more than 4 hours away from each other. We bridge that gap with frequent texts and facebook messages - plus, we have at least a once-a-week phone date.

In fact, we just ended a phone date which inspired this post!

Setting 

Last summer, Sair-uh and I were at the beach with another friend, Katie. It was a beautiful sunny day without a cloud in the sky. We had been laying out (so not a good idea for me... I'm the one with the awful burn below!) but it was bloody hot so we left our towels and headed to the ocean for some relief in the cool water. 



The Incident

The three of us had not gone far. We were wading about chest-deep in the water, letting the waves wash over our shoulders as we continued our chit chat. It was incredibly relaxing. 

All of a sudden though, Sara did not appear very relaxed. 

She shot up out of the water with a squeal and made it back to the shore, I swear in one swift jump. After that, she took off limping on one leg, heading straight for our things, kicking up sand in her wake. 

Katie and I, horrified at what lay inches below the surface swimming at our feet (oh, and worried about Sara, of course!), sprang up almost as high as her, hoping to make it to the shore in one swift leap like Sara so that we could escape the ocean unscathed. Fortunately, we succeeded and then dashed off after her.

We found her wincing in pain with her foot plunged into our ice chest, a red streak forming on her leg. 

The Culprit

It's funny because when I tell this story to friends at college who are not from the south, they haven't a clue what happened. For all they know, she could have been attacked by some awful, under-water sea monster. 

Close enough: she had been stung by a jellyfish : /



Now that might look unsuspecting, even pretty you might think. And, really, with a name like "jelly" fish, how bad can it be? That sounds cute and innocent enough, right?

Wrong. 

Any true Southern Belle knows a jellyfish can do quite a number on ya, since some species are venomous.

The Rescue

Well, poor Sara had quite a number done on her. 

 This wasn't her but, in case you've never seen a sting, it looked kinda like that but smaller and on her leg. Yea: ouch!

The red welt on her leg was spreading and she was near tears. 

At this point, I had to help.

And any true Southern Belle knows the old wives' tale that the best defense for a jellyfish sting is urine. (This is another funny moment when sharing this story with non-southern friends. They've never heard the wives' tale so they just think I am a nut as they do not see my logical conclusion that jellyfish sting = time to pee on someone!)

And Sara - well, she's a friend worth peeing on.

Desperate times do call for desperate measures ;)

Tears spilling over, ice melting and red welt growing, the time had officially become "desperate."

I asked if she wanted me to pee on her, just to make sure. I knew we were about to enter a new closeness in our relationship ;)

She said, "Yes!!! It hurts!" 

As she was removing her leg from the ice chest and Katie was lifting one of our towels as a make-shift modesty-ensuring curtain, I was lowering into the pop-a-squat position. 

The Real Rescue

Just in time, a lady from a nearby set of beach umbrellas must have looked up from her book to see all of this unfold as she came rushing over offering some meat tenderizer.

Yet again, this is a funny point in the re-telling of this to non-southerners. They are utterly dumb-founded at what the significance of meat tenderizer is. Any one from the Southern culture knows that meat tenderizer might as well be called magic potion for treating jellyfish stings. 

So we quickly sprinkled (hmm, this verb does not seem adequate to describe the frantic and thorough application... maybe: "splattered") the meat tenderizer on her leg.

Crisis averted. I did not pee on my best friend. 

But I would have ;) 

And that is just a bit of history about a woman in my life and some of the Southern culture! 

Disclaimer 

This site says that urine is, in fact, not helpful. I know oodles of old southerners who would debate that. 

My advice: best thing to do is simply to come prepared and keep some meat tenderizer with you!

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