Basically a prison for the privileged, Buckhead-lifers think they’re fancy but are in fact the Beverly Hillbillies of the South. This is as close as ATL gets to South Beach, with all the cornball hairstyles, continued usage of Foursquare and wildly overpriced restaurants selling expensive Gulf Coast oysters, but none of the sandy coastlines or sexy people.
Traffic near the Fox Theatre and Piedmont Park is so gruesome you could literally ghost-ride the whip and no one would even notice. Parking is pathetic enough to make you pull an extra $40 from the ATM just for the PARKatlanta ticket you’ll get later. Basically functioning as little more than the city’s hip midsection, Midtown is ATL’s shiny, tiny, well-shaved groin.