Explaining New York to Southerners

Sarah O'Grady
ESCAPING NEW YORK
Published in
3 min readFeb 26, 2014

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Over the last 18 months (18 months?! Holy realization, batman!) since moving to the south, I’ve had many conversations with North Carolinians who have inquired about living in the Apple. To many, it’s this anomaly: “Wait, people actually live there? It’s not just a tourist spot?” Which is of course a little bit of an exaggeration but not so far off from what people who have never lived in New York feel about New York.

And with good reason, I suppose.

As I find myself in conversations with people explaining unintentionally humorous things that make New York special, I am starting to realize just how ridiculous it all must seem to outsiders. For example:

  • A recent study uncovered bed bug activity on 100% of benches in subway stations in New York City. Yo. Fo’ real.
  • A decent cocktail can easily set you back $16. For. one. cocktail. And don’t be surprised when it shows up in a minuscule (read: 1.5 oz) 1950s style champagne glass for “effect.”
  • It can easily take 45 minutes to get from uptown to downtown, whether you take a plane, train or automobile. (Which makes a Triangle resident’s resistance in traveling from Raleigh to Durham because it’s “so far” downright laughable.)
  • Speaking of planes… getting to any of the airports is as challenging as winning the lotto. And it’ll cost you $60+ in cab fare, or if you choose to drive yourself, you have to park about 16 miles away from the terminal and take a bus, train, and monorail to get to the actual airport. (And parking will still set you back $30 a day).
  • Try explaining a $25 “lobster roll” to a southerner. ‘Nuff said.
  • The dangers of rainy days in New York City include dealing with umbrella criminals on the sidewalks who don’t care that they’re about to poke your eye out with their umbrella spoke — it’s a game of chicken to them, and they won’t be moving out of your way.
  • Asking a waiter to split checks at your table (even if just two ways) can elicit the kind of laser stares one might receive if they asked to see a strangers boobs. (Here in NC, it’s the norm for a waiter to ask you up front, politely, if you’ll be dining on separate checks, and most restaurants have ZERO problem creating 8 checks for a party of 8. Seriously.)
  • Most people won’t acknowledge you. That means, you could get in the back of a cab and not have the driver say ‘hello,’ or ‘where to?’ or ‘hey, you’re about to leave your suitcase on the curb… don’t forget it.’ Nothing. Nada. Same with walking into a bodega, checking out at a grocery store, or searching the shelves for Q-Tips at CVS. Most people in the service industry just won’t talk to (or look at) you. And trust me, this seems totally normal as a New Yorker, and totally, frighteningly bizarre to a southerner.
  • New Yorkers avoid Times Square at all costs. Yes, the area that southerners (and most tourists) feel epitomizes New York, New Yorkers find vile, aggravating, and quite frankly the bane of our NY existence. Sorry, visitors.
  • Cost of living… oh, where do I begin. When you try to explain to a non-New Yorker what a 500 square foot WALK-UP apartment costs. (And don’t get me started on the suburbs surrounding NYC, and what taxes, home prices, etc… cost.) It’s at this point they are thinking to themselves, This person’s a moron. Who would live like that?! You’re right. Who would live like that? Crazy New Yorkers, that’s who.

So as you can imagine, explaining these points of difference to an outsider can sound downright insane. Like, what kind of life is that? Ok fine. There are great museums. And culture. And world-renowned restaurants. And job opportunities.

But guess what? Those things exist everywhere. Here in the Triangle, we have AMAZING (and free) museums. Awesome theater, ballet, art, music, etc… We have fabulous James Beard nominated chefs. And guess what: a blooming job market, with more to come. And here, people smile and say hi to you. They care. They throw their litter in garbage cans. Today I was in Target and got asked three times if I needed help finding anything. Whut?

Funny how 18 months can change a person’s perspective, right?

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Escaped NYC for NC. Kick-ass mom, near-perfect wife to @JamieOGrady, and maker of damn fine guacamole.