Things You Gotta Do
- (before you can call yourself a
New Yorker)
Becoming a real-deal New Yorker
is akin to joining an exclusive club.
There are membership dues (paid in
staggering tuitions and exorbitant
rents), a secret language (words like
schmear and whaddayagonnado), and
an initiation process (not just anyone
can navigate tourist-clogged sidewalks
at warp speed). As our city's sappy
theme song suggests, making it here
is something to be proud of - whether
you were born in one of the boroughs
or you parachuted in from afar. And
instead of carrying membership cards,
initiates strut around with an "everywhere
else is just the boondocks" bravado.
Just what does a person have to do
to join such an elite clique? Time
Out New York have got a few ideas.
Accept your bicycle as an integral
part of your furniture
Any jaded bike owner (i.e., one who
has suffered U-lock futility) eventually
resorts to bringing baby indoors.
And unless you have a geeky fold-up
number or live in a loft (damn you!)
or a building with basement storage
(double damn you!), your Specialized
or vintage Schwinn becomes as much
of a space hog as your couch. Think
positively: When the object is at
rest, it makes for a great coat hanger.
And you can always call it art. -
Zoë Wolff
Have personal water-bug and rat
horror stories at the ready
Remember when you dug around the
back of your closet for that pair
of shoes you hadn't worn in months,
and one of them hid a big, shiny,
multiappendaged roach that jumped
out and ran up your arm? How about
that time you walked too close to
a pile of garbage on the Bowery and
about a half dozen mangy, furry beasts
leaped out and scurried over your
feet? Or when you were in the shower
and you saw a hair in the drain; you
yanked on it and discovered it was
the long antenna of a monstrous, disgusting
water bug! Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
- Soren Larson
Adopt a piece of furniture you found
on the street
Forget the big chain stores - we
know how to outfit a well-appointed
apartment by carting home castaways.
It's amazing what you can find on
the concrete if you keep your eyes
peeled. Mint-condition bureaus, tables,
desks and chairs are there for the
taking if you're willing to do a bit
of lugging - and if you aren't afraid
of snooty friends making snide pack-rat
references. - Bruce Tantum
Buy a pair of socks at a street
fair
Some people love the jumble of sights,
sounds and smells at New York City
street fairs. The more jaded, however,
know there's only one reason to push
past the gnarly Italian sausages,
Asian massage torture and T-Mobile
hawkers: socks. At an average of four
dollars for a bundle of three pairs
- or three bundles for ten bucks -
it's the city's most cost-effective
way to rotate holey hosiery out of
your drawers at least once a year.
- Steve Smith
Navigate the West Village without
a map
Many areas of the city can be confounding,
but few are as romantically, stubbornly
haphazard as the West Village, which
was exempt when the grid was laid
down in 1811. Abandon sidewalk logic,
ye who enter here. Waverly meets itself?
Of course. Greenwich Street and Greenwich
Avenue? Yes, to the dismay of many
a delivery guy. But at some point,
perhaps after passing Manhattan's
narrowest house (75 1/2 Bedford St
between Barrow and Morton Sts) six
times while looking for Commerce Street,
your inner Village compass will snap
to, and the landmarks will stop playing
hide-and-seek. From then on, you'll
unerringly navigate the 19th-century
lanes, from tree-lined Charles Street
to the curved blocks of Barrow Street,
from Jack's coffee to Joe's, or from
the Cherry Lane Theatre to signless
Chumley's. - Mamie Healey
Walk your parents through the Gay
Pride Parade without mentioning that
anything out of the ordinary is happening
While a man wearing a giant chicken
head and hot pants giddily waves a
sign that says I [heart] COCK, you
point out the lovely summer foliage
of a West Village rooftop garden to
Mom. As Dykes on Bikes roar past in
an oil-burning haze, you suggest that
perhaps Dad might enjoy a Nutty Buddy
from the nearby ice-cream vendor.
Gay Pride? Why, is it that time of
year already? - Leah Greenblatt
A true New Yorker knows:
that it's called Sixth Avenue, not
Avenue of the Americas.
that you still refer to the MetLife
Building as the Pan Am Building.
that the Statue of Liberty is not
on Ellis Island.
to avoid these tourist-strewn stretches:
West 4th Street between Sixth and
Seventh Avenues; Bleecker Street between
Sixth Avenue and La Guardia Place;
St. Marks Place between Second and
Third Avenues; 34th Street between
Fifth and Eighth Avenues; and 42nd
Street between Sixth and Eighth Avenues.
"Oy vey!"
Incorporate a lexicon of Yiddish
terms into your vocabulary
Even if you grew up in Reykjavik,
after a certain time here, oy, schlemiel
and mazel tov are going to roll off
your tongue as easily as bagels and
lox roll onto it. Bubkes, you say.
But you won't be able to help it.
Yiddish has some of the best words
to describe urban living: like the
box you had to schlep up six flights,
the schlocky work the cobbler did
on your favorite Manolos or the tchotchkes
your roommate is crowding your tiny
apartment with. Your remaining task
is to order a schmear. - Ann Lien
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