Jeremy G. Pippin

I have a confession to make.  I don’t like New York.

Gasp.

The thing is, in New York, if you say “I don’t like New York,” your statement is immediately met with a “well, that’s just ‘cuz you can’t hack it here” attitude.  Thing is, I can hack it here fine.  Not liking New York is not a character flaw.

Here’s the thing about New Yorkers:  They’re dicks.  Not individually, but on the whole, as a group, they’re self-absorbed dicks.  Selfish isn’t the right word; selfish implies an awareness that isn’t there.

A trucker in midtown Manhattan leans on his horn when somebody in front doesn’t cram on the gas fast enough as the light changes.  He does this because the 20 or so pedestrians 4 feet away at the crosswalk with their hands to their ears and pained expressions on their faces doesn’t register in his consciousness.  His world doesn’t extend beyond the realm of his own self-interest.  And this apathy to others is viral; live here long enough and you’ll do it too.

And the worst part is, they’re proud of it. They congratulate themselves on it.  As if being a self-centered twat is a good thing.

If I had a nickel for every time somebody said something like this: “Just push them out of your way.  That’s what I do, ‘cuz I’m a New Yorker.” I might have enough money to pay my obsenely overpriced electric bill.  It’s considered a badge of honor in New York to be rude and arrogant to those around you, as if being so makes you tough.  Well, rude is not tough.  Tough is being able to take what comes your way without complaint, and it doesn’t denote being a prick.  Being a prick is just being a prick.