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You can get into a 4-hour argument about how to get from Columbus Circle to Battery Park at 3:30 on the Friday before a long weekend, but can't find Wisconsin on a map.
You think Central Park is "nature."
Hookers and the homeless are invisible.
You've considered stabbing someone just for saying "The Big Apple."
The middle finger is a form of communication.
You believe that being able to swear at people in their own language makes you multi-lingual.
Your door has more than 3 locks.
You go to a hockey game for the fighting ... in the stands ... to participate.
You consider eye contact an act of overt aggression.
The subway should never be called anything prissy, like the Metro.
You think $7.00 to cross a bridge is a fair price.
You know that you have to use whatever means necessary to avoid the A train after 8 P.M.
You've worn out a car horn.
You secretly envy cabbies for their driving skill.
You call an 8' x 10' plot of patchy grass a yard.
You complain about having to mow it.
A slice of pizza is dinner at least once a week.
"Mad" is an adverb.
Being truly alone makes you nervous.
$50 worth of groceries fit in one paper bag.
You don't notice sirens anymore.
You live in a building with a larger population than most American towns.
Your doorman is Russian, your grocer is Korean, your deli man is Israeli, your building super is Italian, your laundry guy is Chinese, your favorite bartender is Irish, your favorite diner owner is Greek, the watchseller on your corner is Senegalese, your last cabbie was Pakistani, your newsstand guy is Indian and your favorite falafel guy is Egyptian.
You're suspicious of strangers who are actually nice to you.
You run when you see a flashing "Do Not Walk" sign at the intersection.
You're 35 years old and don't have a driver's license.
When you're away from home, you miss "real" pizza and "real" bagels.
You know what a bodega is.
Someone bumps into you, and you check for your wallet.....
You cringe at hearing people pronounce Houston St. like the city in Texas.
Film crews on your block annoy you, not excite you.
You take a taxi to get to your health club to exercise.
America west of the Hudson is still theoretical to you.
Going to Brooklyn is considered a "road trip."
You have 27 different menus next to your telephone.
You're paying $1,200 for a studio the size of a walk-in closet and you think it's a "steal."
You haven't heard the sound of true absolute silence since the 80s, and when you did, it terrified you.
The most frequently used part of your car is the horn.
You get upset that a cabbie is obeying all the rules of the road.
You cross the street anywhere but on the corners and you yell at cars for not respecting the fact.
Your co-worker commutes 45 minutes by train to a 2,000 square foot house in the suburbs that was the same price as that same 500 square foot apartment of yours that takes only 35 minutes to get to and you think he's a sucker.
You don't even notice the nice lady walking down the road having a perfectly normal conversation with her self.
You may air heartfelt gripes and complaints about your city, but heaven help any visitors who dis' your city.
You take the train home and you know exactly where on the platform the doors will open that will leave you right in front of the exit stairway.
You and the other three passengers look at each other and know you have pure grit.
Your local news is national news.
Communicating with people on the road only takes one finger.
You order your dinner and have it delivered.. from the place across the street.
You can tell a gunshot from a firecracker and not get scared, but when you go to the burbs you get scared of hearing a cricket.
You know the lights above the skyscrapers is the closest thing we have to stars.
Rather than waiting safely on the sidewalk to cross the street, you wait inches away from speeding traffic waiting to cut through it.
When you are able to make a right turn at a red light.. you think it's the best thing ever.
Your doorman is a Russian, your grocer is Korean, your deli man is Israeli, your building super is Italian, your laundry guy is Chinese, your favorite bartender is Irish, your favorite diner owner is Greek, the watchseller on your corner is Senegalese, your last cabbie was Pakistani, your newsstand guy is Indian and your favorite falafel guy is Egyptian.
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That is what I miss so much about NY--diversity! I'm here in Atlanta and it's like a different planet. I'm hispanic and people just assume i'm illegal, Mexican or both. Not a clue. (duh). And my husband is from Egypt and someone at work asked him if they had cars in Egypt. WTF?! The person that asked had never stepped foot outside of Georgia. Need I say more?
Anyway, my husband still doesn't have a drivers license and just recently he went to get a permit and they looked at him like he was crazy at the DMV. LMAO.
On a related topic, you know your out-of-town dinner guests are from NYC when the conversation inevitably goes back to how this restaurant is good, but it's still not as good as the restaurants in NYC; and how this restaurant closes at such-and-such hour and the bars close at 2 am, while in NYC they're open all night. Also, the topic of rent inevitably comes up, and this leads to two outcomes: you tell them your rent, and they immediately calculate how much that rent would be in which neighborhoods in NYC; or you tell them you don't rent, you own. And that just bums them out.
(And yes, this is based on repeated personal experience. I love my NYC friends...but they are certainly a few topics that hold an...unusual amount of interest for them. )
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So true!
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