Extra

Inspired by true events, and dedicated to all y'all. You know who you are.

Every Southern woman is Extra. We can’t help it – it's in our DNA. Whether we’re outlining a thickly penciled pout or theatrically draping ourselves over the hood of our boyfriend’s car so that he CANNOT LEAVE THIS PARTY WITHOUT ACKNOWLEDGING HE WAS TALKING TO THAT TRASHY GIRL FROM HOUNDDOGS, we are inborn with a capacity for drama.

Occasionally, these dramatic tendencies may land us in the backs of police cruisers, but mostly, they keep life interesting and keep our aaoohga-eyed lovers panting for more. The cultivated Southern woman is filled with a wild joie de vivre that draws gentlemen from all over the globe. She will appear as delicate as a pastel green wedding mint one moment, melting into his arms with only the gentlest of nudging; her soft sigh capable of stirring her hero’s heart. A few weeks later, her beleaguered beau may find himself on the losing side of an argument about his favorite SEC team or why he’s just the wrongest man who ever lived for laughing at that little old lady at the next table over whose dentures fell out eating her trout amandine.

But it’s too late. He’s already hooked – by her tornadic charm, her tender heart for service, her leopard-print underclothes. Rings are exchanged and promises made.

A new generation of Extra is born.

Ms. Extra’s dear husband, worn slap out from years of carrying gigantic handbags and toting Baby Extra all over the pageant circuit, eventually succumbs to the sweet sleep of the grave.

Imagine his chagrin when he arrives at his final destination and sees the streets of gold and the foundations of every wall covered in precious stones.

Talk about Extra.