Things That Make You an Asshole Anywhere but New York
You’re a New Yorker. You are great. You know it, we know it. Unfortunately everyone outside of the Tri-State Area might not know it. Some of our GREATEST qualities (like our obsession with real estate and general disdain for anyone who gets in our way), while charming and completely normal to other people who live here, have been known to turn off the entire rest of the country. It’s not you, trust us. It’s definitely them. But just so we’re all on the same page, here are the things that will make you an asshole anywhere except New York City.
Asking about rent
It’s not that we’re being nosy. We just need to know if we’re getting more or less screwed than our friends... or coworkers... or that guy we sometimes see on the N/Q train.
Complaining about EVERYTHING but then doing it anyway
Exhibit 1: “I am NOT waiting two hours for brunch... ohhh but it’s bottomless, you say?”
Exhibit 2: “Why do we always have to do shit that is so expensive? I only have $42 in my bank account.” (But by the end of the night you’ve had two cocktails at Bua, dinner and a bottle of wine at Supper, and you’ve Uber’d yourself back to Astoria.)
Exhibit 3: “This city is the WORST. The weather sucks, my rent is too high, and everyone here is an asshole.” (But when your friends even consider moving somewhere else you question their sanity -- and your own, for ever choosing to hang out with them.)
Not observing normal manners
“Can I get a... ” is a completely legit way to order. “Please” is irrelevant, so long as it’s followed up with a “thanks, man.”
Avoiding eye contact/sometimes flat-out ignoring others
Whether it’s a homeless person, a clipboard person, or an old college roommate, there’s really just no time to stop and chat.
Bad umbrella etiquette
There’s no room for anyone on the sidewalk because everyone has a enormous and totally unnecessary umbrella -- plus, the ground is littered with the abandoned carcasses of thousands of other easily destructible Duane Reade umbrellas.
Taking loud cellphone conversations in inappropriate places
On the subway. At Starbucks. In an open-plan office. On the street outside someone’s bedroom window who is really just trying to get some sleep, OK?! Wherever we go, we make it clear to everyone within three miles what we think of that Tinder guy's penis size and the color and consistency of things no one wants to know about.
Taking a lot of liberties with PDA
Someone could foreseeably find it rude that we're smacking our lips together against the subway doors, or going for a little over-the-pants action in the back corner of the bar. But we live in tiny apartments with roommates who can hear everything anyway, so what’s the difference if the entire bar can hear it too?
Not knowing how to drive
There’s a reason “Hey, I’m walkin’ here!” is the biggest New York cliche of all. Cars in New York belong to out-of-towners. Period. Never driving makes us terrible pedestrians -- ‘Jay walking’ to outsiders is just crossing the street to us. And when we actually do have to drive somewhere (if we even have a license), we’re god-awful at it. But hey, at least we’re better than drivers in Jersey?
We live in a world where we know a guy who knows a guy who once gave all his money to a “broker” for an apartment that never existed. “ConEd” is always knocking on our doors to try to help us “save money.” The guy at the deli assures us that the bagels were “boiled in the back.” We inherently believe everyone and everything is a scam. Because it usually is.
Thinking (no, KNOWING) cab drivers have no idea where they’re going
Speaking of being perpetual skeptics, we always assume cab drivers are taking us the long way. Just go the route we lay out for you and no one gets hurt.
Breaking up with people because they live far away
You could be absolute soul mate material, if not for the fact that it takes 45 minutes to get to you, and on the G train, no less. Next swipe.
Getting irrationally angry at the “sick passenger”
We all realize this makes us LEGITIMATE assholes, but in the moment all we can think is, “It’s going to be HOW long before we start moving?” Sometimes we follow it up with a quick, “I hope that person is OK.” But not often. OK, not ever, really.
Believing we are holier than thou
We really do look down at the rest of the country from the tips of our perfectly mustachioed noses. We get what we want when we want it. We have ethereal Ethiopian food on the same block as banging Vietnamese pho on the same block as the world’s greatest tacos right from a truck. There are 17 banks on any given corner of Midtown so we don’t HAVE to pay ridiculous ATM fees. We can drink as much as we want without having to worry about a DD. Our closest Walmart is in New Jersey and WE DON’T EVEN NEED IT.
Being really quick to lay on the horn
It’s wall-to-wall gridlock and no one is going anywhere, and a solid 26 seconds of honking is definitely not to get things moving right away. But everyone in earshot knowing we’re pissed off just makes us feel better.
Hating kids and anyone under 35 who has them
Williamsburg is ruined. Park Slope is one giant sandbox. Astoria has NEVER been a “cool” option because of all the families. And don’t you dare bring that stroller into my bar. In New York you aren’t supposed to procreate until you’re ready to move the hell away.
Never contacting people after a first date
Even if the date went relatively well, it is perfectly reasonable to assume that your “I had a great time!” text will go entirely unanswered. And it really is nothing personal.
ALWAYS being late
Usually it’s not our faults. There’s traffic or the subway was rerouted or a meeting ran way too long. But then there are the times we’ll say we’re “four blocks away!!!” when we haven’t even left our apartments yet.
We are “real New Yorkers.” We can’t stand these crazy yoots coming in with their neon sunglasses and their fancy $11 beers. They bastardize our bagels and our pizza and they raise our rent and destroy our neighborhoods. We can’t stand transplants. Even though the majority of us were them at one point.
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Meagan Drillinger is a contributing writer for Thrillist and she can’t get through the day without jaywalking over to her brunch spot while cursing and throwing dollar bills into the air. Follow her on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook.