The other day Cory Doctorow had a piece over at Boing-Boing asking, "What do you call the shop on the corner?" A convenience store? A bodega? An off-license? Some of the comments brought back a funny memory.
I grew up in the 'burbs of Boston, where all liquor stores are known as "package stores." I don't know why, they just are. So we grew up referring to the place where you could buy beer as a "packy," as in "Let's make a packy run before the party."
I went to college in Connecticut, so although the New Yorkers and Californians looked at me funny, I could still get away with "package store" with all the other New Englanders. (I thought it was just as weird when they worried about getting "proofed" instead of "carded.") Then, when I got to London in my junior year, I continued to refer to the neighborhood liquor stores as "packies." What I didn't know was that many Londoners (at least in the '80s, I don't know about now) referred to those corner stores as Paki Shops, or Pakis, since so many were run by Pakistanis—and that this was not a nice term.
I had a boyfriend* in London, and it was quite a while until he finally confronted me about my casual usage of "packy," which he understood as "Paki"—and which he disapproved of and found thoroughly and curiously unlike me. It wasn't until that moment that we figured out that I was saying one thing and he was hearing another. Fascinating, and yet another example of Shaw's famous line about "two nations divided by a common language."
*Ah, the British boyfriend! Another funny story. First I sent home an aerogram (how analog!) saying, "Hey, Mom and Dad, guess what? I have a boyfriend, and he's even Jewish!" Before letting them bask too long in that pleasant news, I wrote again: "No, he's not a student, he's in fact a hairdresser." Oh well, still not awful. But then: "He's divorced." Ugh, not what they wanted to hear. And finally: "Did I mention that he's 12 years older than me? And his son is 12 years younger than me!" My poor parents.
"Proofed"? Maybe in New York, but never in California. "Carded," always. And a liquor store is a liquor store.
Alas, we are patois-deprived here in the Golden State.
Posted by: Nancy | November 21, 2008 at 12:18 AM
It really intrigues me how different our terminology is throughout our country (let alone our dialects). When I lived for that brief time in Maine, I was blown away with the differences — and their "bizarre" accent was only part of it! What we called rubber bands, they called elastics. What we called purses, they called pocket books. What we called driveways, they called yard gates. What we referred to as the basement, they referred to as "down cellar." It just went on and on. I've only known liquor stores to be called liquor stores! (I know that in Montana you can buy any type of liquor at the grocery store so there's no such thing as a "liquor store"). It's like we're all a bunch of foreign countries when you think about it.
Posted by: Tonya | November 21, 2008 at 01:50 AM
In Philadelphia, where I grew up (in the 'burbs), liquor was (is?) sold in state stores. BTW, I am shocked, shocked I tell you, at the older, divorced, London boyfriend!! I have a similar story...he he...ahh, to be a young college student again!
Posted by: Elena | November 21, 2008 at 08:03 AM
Huh, Originally from Fall River, I too, call it a a package store(still). A quick look on wikipedia and google did not turn up a deriviation but I suspect it had something to do with prohibition and getting a "package". I noted while googling that it isn't stictly a New England phenomenon. there were a number of stores in the south as well.
I always called any convienince store by it's name or some derivation of the name. When I first started working in Cambridge my coworkers were flummoxed when I said Store "two four" as I had learned in college in Worcester. I had never even really thought about the fact that it was really Store "twenty four". I used to call the local store in Stow where I now live the "inconvienience" store because they closed at 7 and never seemed to have anything in stock. they changed hands and are now a fabulously run local store (called Russell's).
Favorite regional language useages:
Frappe/Milk shake/cabinet - all the same thing depending on where you are.
Pop/soda/tonic- same deal. that tonic thing bugs me though. If any of my Cambridge friends ever hand me a gin and tonic with anything but carbonated quinine water they are gonna wear it.
Posted by: B.O.B.(bob) | November 21, 2008 at 09:44 AM
It wasn't until that moment that we figured out that I was saying one thing and he was hearing another. Fascinating, and yet another example of Shaw's famous line about "two nations divided by a common language."
Heh...I tend to subclass Shaw's quote to "50 states divided by a common language." Pop or Soda? Water Fountain or Bubbler? Whenever I travel I always find some situation where I have to ask "What is a ?"
Posted by: Generic_Humanoid | November 21, 2008 at 11:49 AM
I say "convenience store" for places that sell gas and a few groceries, "corner store" for small, non-chain groceries which sell no gas, and "liquor store" for places that sell booze.
Sometimes I call the liquor store "Discount," as there really is no reason to go anywhere else in my area. Such is the magnificence of Discount Liquor.
Posted by: scott | November 21, 2008 at 01:35 PM
I neglected to mention that here in the Mostly Enlightened State (except for gay marriage), liquor is sold in supermarkets and convenience stores as well as in liquor stores. I've been in a liquor store maybe twice in my life. It was truly creepy. In most California cities liquor stores are found only in the poorest and most dangerous parts of town; everyone else just goes to Trader Joe's, Costco, or the supermarket to buy their legal drugs.
Posted by: Nancy | November 21, 2008 at 06:28 PM
No matter how gluttonous devouring all the time, we need to breathe at this time, and strive to win our reputation, the sickle of time can not hurt us. - William Shakespeare
Posted by: air yeezy | November 13, 2010 at 01:27 AM