Guide to Being a Texan (Illustrated)
Do you want to be a Texan? Of course; we all do!
I’ve lived in Texas for over nine years, and the people here accept me as one of their own. I know many other people are considering moving to Texas before it secedes and becomes its own country, but to do that, you’ll need to learn how to be a Texan. Luckily I have this guide so you can be as much a Texan as me.
Frank’s Guide to Being a Texan
This is what most of Texas looks like:
It’s big, open space with lots of brush and critters. But there is also civilization here. It looks like this:
That’s how we get oil out of the ground, the stuff that gives Texas its power. The other type of building you’ll find in Texas civilization is this:
This is a saloon where Texans come to converse. Now, before you go in there, you need to know how to act like a Texan so they don’t run you out of town (Texans love running people out of town). First off, you need one of these:
This is a Texas gun. Everyone has one. If you’re stopped by the Texas Rangers (that’s Texas police) and they search you and don’t find a gun on you, they’re going to be mighty suspicious of you. “Where you hiding your gun? What you mean you don’t have a gun? Are you some outta-towner?” And if they also find salsa on you that was made in New York City, you’ll be in big, big trouble, so don’t have that on you.
But you also have to dress the part. So you’ll need to wear one of these:
This is a Texas hat. It helps shade your face from the Texas sun. Wearing it also counts as supporting the Texas Cowboys (make sure to act sad about how they once again didn’t get past the first round of playoffs).
But you not only need a hat. You need these:
These are Texas boots, a requirement. Whatever you do, don’t wear sneakers in Texas. If you do, they will shoot you with one of their Texas guns! And when the Texas Rangers ask why, the guy will just point at the sneakers and say, “That guy was up to something. Look at those sneakers… for sneaking!” Real Texans never sneak; they walk real loud with clanky spurs.
Oh, and in Texas, you can’t go driving around in a Honda Accord or something, or people will know you don’t belong. Instead, you have to get from place to place using a bucking bronco.
And the more it bucks, the better. If your bronco isn’t constantly bucking, people will be like, “What’s wrong with it? Is it sick?”
Now that you look and act like a Texan, you need to talk like one. It’s simple.
If you like what someone said, yell, “Yee-haw!” If you really liked what someone said, yell, “Yee-haw!” while firing your Texas gun in the air.
If you don’t like what someone said, say, “Don’t mess with Texas!” and then stare the guy down.
And when greeting people, say, “Hey, Tex!” because Tex is every Texan’s nickname.
So now you look and sound like a Texan, but that’s not enough to get them to accept you. You need to prove yourself. The best way to do that is to head out of the saloon and take your bronco (careful, it bucks) past the oil derrick back out to the open plains and then pick a fight with the meanest, toughest cactus you can find.
When everyone sees you knock out a cactus with one punch, they’ll accept you as one of their own and give you a new nickname: Tex.
Congratulations! You’re now a Texan! Celebrate by yelling, “Yee-haw!” and firing your Texas gun in the air. Now it’s your solemn duty to look for people who don’t belong here and run them out of town. Not me, though; I’m Frank “Tex” Fleming, as much a Texan as anyone. And I’m only driving a Honda Accord because my bronco bit me and I’m scared of it.
We will never accept you as one of our own until you call sneakers "tennis shoes."
If you move to Virginia, I understand you have to wait three generations to be accepted as a native. In Texas, you just have to quit talking about "How we do it up north".