Road Trip

You pull over at the gas station, go inside and walk up to the counter. There’s a greasy, balding man with a handlebar mustache behind the counter with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

“Hi! I need $25 on pump 3 please!”

He eyes you suspiciously.

“First I needa know whether you was born NORTH or SOUTH of the ol’ Mason-Dixon line first, because you lookin’ an awful lot like a no good Yankee and I don’t take kindly to Yankees enterin’ my here establishment!”