We don’t like to admit it, but it happens. Sometimes, our lesser selves get the better of us when we’re talking with friends who live on the other side of the city/suburb divide, and what results can only be described as a “pissing contest.” You know the drill: someone says something that sounds vaguely superior, so your response has to coolly reassert your turf’s supremacy. How can you tell if you’re in a City vs. Westchester cocktail-party showdown? You might hear one of these passive-aggressive rejoinders:
Westchesterite: “You must have a good memory—I’d never remember where I left my car if I had to parallel park in a different spot every night.”
New Yorker: “I saw a fantastic indie film—the one that won all of those awards at that festival. You should see it when they get around to opening it in Westchester.”
Westchesterite: “I heard they just opened a Best Buy near the DSW and TGI Friday’s in Union Square.”
New Yorker: “I envy all the sleep you probably get—it seems impossible to stay out too late where you live.”
Westchesterite: “What’s the E.R.B.?”
New Yorker: “I realized I have no idea where I put my screwdriver. When something breaks, I just call the super.”
Westchesterite: “I bet you don’t even have a gym membership—you must have excellent leg muscles from going into and out of your walk-up.”
New Yorker: “I never worry about drinking too much when I go out—I can always take the subway or grab a cab.”
Westchesterite: “I admit that sometimes I go overboard at Costco, but we can always store the excess in the pantry or the basement—or even the attic if we get desperate.”
New Yorker: “Oh, I forgot you don’t have a Shake Shack yet. We just got our
seventh.”
