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Blanche: (begins to tell a story about "acceptance" to console Dorothy) I remember I was a blossomin' belle who had just won the Little Miss Magnolia pageant...Dorothy: Blanche, before you start, realize I am very vulnerable now, and in no mood to hear a story about you and some yahoo-cracker with four first names pawing at each other under a magnolia tree.Blanche: Well, pardon me, Dorothy, but we can't all come from places as socially acceptable as Brooklyn.Dorothy: I'm sorry, Blanche, I'm sorry, go on with the story. Just try to shy away from words like "tarnation" and "catfish."Blanche: Fine. Anyway, I was about eight years old when I first met Cathy Lee on the playground. We became fast friends. Just as thick as Louisiana blackstrap molasses on a stack of johnnycakes as high as an elephant's knee---Dorothy: On a riverboat floating down the Mississippi delta... FINISH THE DAMN STORY, BLANCHE!Blanche: Anyway, it was at a Southern seafood fry that I proudly dragged Cathy Lee over to meet my folks. Well, my mama took one look at Cathy Lee and forbade me ever to see her again!Rose: Why?Blanche: Because her mother was not in the Daughters of the Confederacy. Oh, how my heart went out to little Cathy Lee, standin' there while our servants snickered at her servants. But Mama insisted I break off the friendship, or I wouldn't get brand new ridin' boots for Christmas! So I did.Dorothy: Blanche, why is this a story about acceptance?Blanche: Oh - because years later, to get back at me, Cathy Lee slept with my daddy! That was something I had to accept. Mama accepted it too - along with a brand new Cadillac Eldorado for her birthday. You know, my family had a few dollars, and I loved them dearly, but when you get right down to it, basically they were trash.

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