Blanche: 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 stake 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 our Southern seafood fry that I proudly dragged Cathy Lee over to meet my folks. Well, my mama took one look at Cathy Lee and forbad 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, standing there while our servants snickered at her servants. But Mama insisted I break off the friendship, or I wouldn't get brand-new riding 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.