The last time I said the word "taters," I was at a winery in Georgia of all places. The wine was shit, of course, because the best wine-going regions are not known for their oppressive humidity and cotton-ravaged soil. Anyway, when the tour and tasting were over, the guide asked if anyone had any questions. Since I was surrounded by people wearing fanny packs and actual trucker hats worn by truckers, I blurted out in my best dumb southerner voice,"Whut kinna wine goes with tater salad?"
He ignored me.