You play the “numbers game”
We’re glad you have six Muses shoes, four Zulu coconuts, one 20-year-old St. Joseph’s bean, nine Jazz Fest posters, and 11 doubloons from the Rex parade of 1963. But what are we supposed to do with this information? Having these items is neat, but remember: being a New Orleanian is not a competition. It’s a party. We’re all in this together.
You’re overly vocal about how long you’ve been here
To paraphrase the immortal words of Margaret Thatcher, “Being a New Orleanian is like being a woman. If you need to prove it, you’re not one.” Having been here six years or 16 doesn’t make a difference to the natives, pal. It’s just important that you’re here and that you call this beautiful mess home.
You have a “brass pass” and make sure everyone knows it
Ah, the golden ticket of Jazz Fest, allowing you access to VIP areas and entry to every day of the festival. It’s great you scored one (or had the dough to spend on it), but there’s no need to keep reminding us of that fact, mostly because we’re jealous. By the way, did you know that a brass pass is transferrable from one person to another on any day of the fest? Hint, hint.
Saying you’re “from New Orleans” when you clearly did not grow up here
It’s amazing how often people try to pull this one off. If someone here asks you where you’re from, and you say “New Orleans,” they will follow up this line of inquiry with, “Where did you go to school?” If your answer is “Tulane,” you’re going to get called out (we meant high school, buddy). You moved here from somewhere else, and now NOLA is your home. Great! Glad to have you. But stop masquerading as a native already.