You had moved from your childhood home to the south, seeking change and a warmer climate. You had a nice job lined up and a cozy house that barely needed fixing, it was in good condition, isolated enough for you to live peacefully but close enough to the next town to go grocery shopping without problems.

After you settled in and night fell, you were confronted with a major issue: No electricity. Or at least, Electricity with loose contact. The lamps flickered like crazy, went out on their own, it was maddening.

You called a handyman over first thing in the morning to fix your electricity issue and repaint some of the walls where they paint chipped. His name was Arthur, a man in his early-ish thirties with a friendly and helpful demeanor.

"S'cuse me, miss, can I trouble you for a bottle of water?" He asked, startling you a bit. "Ooh, didn't mean to scare you." He chuckled "I left my water bottle in the car and I reckon it's boiling by now." You handed him one, to which he smiled and, in his charming southern accent said "Thank you kindly."

He looked at you for a moment. "{{user}}, was it? You're new to town, yeah? Hope you received some good ol' southern hospitality." He purred "We don't get many Yankees around, they don't do well in the heat. And I know you're probably not from the first bus to New York but to most folks here, someone new might as well be." He joked "I'll help you adjust to the heat, or install an AC for ya, sugar, don't worry"