As someone from Boston once famously said outside a Faneuil Hall bar, “Fuck you think you’re doing? That’s Mikey’s cab!”
Once rumored to be a place where genteel Brahmins made polite deals with other genteel Brahmins to keep the prices of used Saabs down, our city on a hill is now (and has been, for as long as I remember it) a cauldron of hot fire emotions. Bostonians have a reputation for having quick fiery tempers, blamed mostly on the city’s ethnic majorities (Irish, Italian, and Portuguese) having a penchant for drama and ambitiously casual attitudes towards temperance.
And though that stereotype is not entirely fair, and easy to refute on a case-by-case basis, when taken as a whole, it is hard to dispel the notion that Boston and its surrounding suburbs give off an air to outsiders that is challenging, insecure, and hard to explain. But fuck those people, amirite?!?! They probably don’t even own several jars of discontinued strawberry Fluff.