During my flu quarantine, I found myself watching some WWII documentaries (there’s only so much Disney Channel a girl can take). There was one particular show about the various research experiments conducted by the Allied Powers in order to gain as much advantage as possible over the Axis. Some of the experiments were so nuts that I found myself amazed at how we managed to win the war, but one of them really caught my attention.
The War ended while the experiment was in the early stages but the gist of it was that the Allies wanted to create some sort of Trojan horse soldier. Researchers hadn’t even had time to decide if they wanted to go with a robot or a person before funding was snatched away, but it was supposed to be something very unassuming that could unleash holy hell once it got behind enemy lines.
The research would have gone faster and farther if the researchers had stopped to look around at what the good Lord had already provided. They were trying to create something that had already been honed to perfection in the form of a Southern Belle.
Just think about it: What guard would be inclined to challenge the cool and calm demeanor of a Diamond Magnolia? There isn’t a wrinkle in the elegant outfit or a hair out of place in the do—she surely knows where she is going. Other than probably being able to give a withering stare, she doesn’t look all that dangerous. She’s just a little bit of a thing.
Just a little bit of a thing. Dismissing a Southern Belle as a result of her small stature is a very, very, very fatal mistake. When it comes to Southern Belles, my experience is that the smallest packages carry the biggest punches by far.
Waaaaay back in high school, I had a very good friend who barely cracked five feet tall. She was terribly perky and energetic, but I liked her in spite of her faults. Of course, she was a cheerleader and she was also one of the most well mannered Southern Belles I ever knew...most likely because her mother taught deportment.
Perky Belle had a side business as a babysitter. At the time, Wilmington was a small enough town that word got out among the babysitting masses about which kids/jobs were or weren’t good. One family had four kids that were absolutely horrible, but the parents paid well as a result, so it was always kind of an inner struggle when you were asked to watch the little darlings. One babysitter got thrown into the pool, one got shoved down the stairs and another one got a big hunk of hair chopped off of her head.
So, having run through nearly the entire Wilmington babysitting circuit, the parents called upon Perky Belle’s babysitting services. I tried like hell to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't listen. Those little buzzards would see her size and eat her alive before their parents even pulled out of the driveway. Well, Perky Belle showed up at the appointed time and it wasn’t ten minutes in before the little boogers had her locked outside.
Perky Belle calmly walked around back, grabbed a decorative rock and threw it through the sliding glass door. She then walked right past the four little horrors standing there with their eyes as wide as saucers, picked up the phone and called the police. When the officer arrived, Perky told him that she wasn’t sure if it was a prowler or one of the kids horsing around. The kids very quietly stated that it was a prowler and that they were going to go on and turn in for the night.
The second most memorable Mini Belle incident that I can recall was in law school. We always had to do mock trials and negotiations and such and when you put that many prospective lawyers together...well, it just isn’t an atmosphere any sane person wants to be caught in. During a mock mediation, we were split up into several groups and sent off to come to a compromise with our case.
Well, of course (as usually tended to be my poor luck) the session I was in got a little heated and—no—I had nothing to do with it. Basically, Mini Belle felt like the pretend insurance company was scamming her pretend client. She got into a particularly heated discussion with a former football player-turned-law student and I swear that she barely came up to the guy’s belly button. Mini Belle finished what she had to say, turned around to walk away and Football Dude made a fatal mistake: In a very poor “quiet voice” he called her a bitch.
Of course, Mini Belle immediately swiveled back around, stomped over and got face-to-face with the fella as much as the size difference would allow. Stress and the passage of time have made me forget what all she said to him, but she literally backed him up against a wall and she wasn’t letting up any time soon. The rest of us looked at each other dumbly--we probably should have tried to break them up, but we were all too fond of our lives. Football Boy ended up warding her off with his hands out in front of him as he apologized profusely and sidled toward the door.
I'm particularly fond of the smaller statured Southern Belles of the world. I certainly don't know how on earth it happened, but my Baby Belle 1 it a teeny little bit of a thing. It's important to me that she sees that she is a force to be reckoned with in spite of her size. So far, so good. I saw her knock a boy twice her size out of a chair that other day during a heated game of Musical Chairs at school.