10 Things Philadelphians Are Irrationally Passionate About
Philadelphia was once crowned America’s Angriest City by, ahem, a well-meaning but deeply misinformed outlet. Was the title understandable? Yes. Was it correct? Not quite. Sure, we can get as angry as people from any other city, but what we really are is extremely passionate. Of course, our feisty, down-and-dirty brand of enthusiasm is often mistaken for aggression -- probably because of all the yelling, swearing, and thinly veiled threats. New around these parts? Familiarize yourself with the following Philly triggers... and then slowly back away.
Being legitimately from Philadelphia
Not from the Philadelphia area, but from Philadelphia. God help the celebrity who claims roots in our fair city but is, in fact, from Doylestown. Hear it now, Bradley Cooper, Taylor Swift, and others far too successful and attractive to be from the 215 proper: You can’t sit with us.
If you’re from here, your gut reaction is to immediately protest that cheesesteaks are a tired Philadelphia cliché. But this is a safe space, so let’s be honest: Only one city could have dreamed up this unholy union of canned cheese and dodgy meat, and only one city that could love it so. So what’s your favorite? Dalessandro’s? Jim’s? Pat’s? Geno’s? Did we strike a nerve yet? Just let it out -- you’ll feel better.
Our beloved sweatpants
How much do we love our sweatpants? When they’re nearing the end of their life cycle, we make them into sweatshorts. You’re welcome, America.
The borders between Port Richmond and Fishtown are fuzzy, just as the distinction between Frankford and Bridesburg is negligible. In Philadelphia, however, these neighborhoods are wholly sovereign nations, and confusing them is an unforgivable offense punishable by townie lectures in the comments section. Or death, if you’re lucky.
Our blind adoration for Hall & Oates
Not that there’s anything wrong with the hometown duo -- far from it. But it’s hard to imagine any other city embracing Hall & Oates the way we have; as in rabidly, without a trace of the irony that "Kiss On My List" deserves.
Hating New Jersey
Most states have a good-natured rivalry with their neighbors. But given the chance, yeah, we’d probably sink Jersey.
Hating New York
The theory is that we’re jealous, but what could the Land of Butter Cake and Sweatshorts possibly have to be jealous about? We’re obviously superior, so shove it, New York.
Hating in general
The PPA. I-76. AT&T Station. That part of City Hall that’s randomly a different color. Shore traffic. Pittsburgh. Tourists. Bike lanes. Lack of bike lanes. Tourists in bike lanes. Your cat. We could do this all day.
The magnificence that is Wawa
If you want to break it down and drain all the magic out of the world, then fine, Wawa is nothing more than a glorified convenience store. But pure, unconditional love is rare in Philadelphia, so just let us have this one, OK?
We enjoy a Phillies game. We root for the Flyers. We’re masochists, so we watch the Sixers. But the Eagles, well... the Eagles are an entirely different story. We love you, Carson Wentz, we really do -- please try to remember that the next time a grown man in face-paint threatens your life as tears roll down his cheeks.
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