Thursday, January 28, 2010

Walk Like a New Yorker

Every holiday season, New York City is overrun by sloppy, loud-talking, site-seeing, Serendipity-eating, Central Park carriage-riding beings who appear as if from nowhere. They arrive en masse and steal the holiday spirit right from under the feet of humble New Yorkers who are simply attempting to get through the season without going broke or killing someone.

I, for one, like to think that on the whole, we city residents are rather tolerant of this phenomenon. We give subway directions when asked, offer restaurant and nightlife suggestions, and allow blatant displays of tourism to go by the wayside. Sometimes, we'll even take your photo and not run away with your camera.

However, come the New Year, my patience begins to wane. I have to get to work. They don't. They are still "on vacation in the big city" (insert Southern accent here). They have shows to see, Max Brenner to visit, and a cube to turn. But seriously - I have places to be.

In a city overrun by traffic congestion, useless traffic rules, even more useless traffic cops, bus lanes, "don't block the box," etc, we have forgotten the most important type of traffic here in the grid - the type of traffic that consumes New Yorkers' lives on a daily and sometimes hourly basis: people traffic. People are simply everywhere in New York. So why has no one come up with an appropriate guide on how to navigate this most essential and important function of surviving a visit here? Not only are those visitors who come unprepared putting themselves at risk, they are endangering any thread of sanity New Yorkers may still hold on to!

To help alleviate this pain in EVERYONE's asses, I have come up with the Rules of People Traffic. Many New Yorkers would agree that these are all unspoken rules that any idiot would know and agree with, but I beg to differ. Anyone walking the streets of New York should get friendly with these rules; they are designed primarily for visitors, but also apply to residents who simply feel like being assholes, or are just too entitled to care.

Pedestrian Rules

Rules for walking on the sidewalk mirror rules for driving on the highway; i.e. FAST LANE is to the left, and SLOW LANE is to the right. Much to my dismay, there are no pedestrian traffic cops to give you tickets for walking too fast (or too slow) or being in the wrong lane. Therefore, it is of utmost important that pedestrians adhere to the following:

1. If you want to walk slowly (a.k.a. "mosey").
a. You are in New York. You may get run over.
b. Be aware. The person behind you probably wants to pass you. They also have a much more important reason to be going wherever it is they are going. And they have to get their Starbucks before they get to Said Important Place (SIP), which takes priority over your Broadway matinee or window shopping at Macy's.
c. STAY TO THE RIGHT. If the sidewalk is small, Starbucks-fiend may knock you into the street. Be careful.

2. If you need to cross the street.
a. Crosswalk signals are meaningless; you need merely check the traffic coming in your direction. If there is a car flying towards you, jump back - they will not stop if you are in the way, especially if you look like a tourist.
b. Don't "mosey" through the crosswalk. Self-important Starbucks guy is likely right behind you, on his way to SIP.

3. If you want to stare at landmarks.
a. DO NOT walk and look up. Not only do you look like a jackass, Starbucks guy may smack you upside the head with his iPhone if you run into him. You may also instantly be sucked into a group of Asian tourists wearing matching yellow hats and clicking their cameras in your face.
b. Find a discreet place to observe the beautiful New York scenery or landmark you are trying to take in. Move out of the way of pedestrian traffic, take your damn pictures, and move on. No one needs to see you catching flies and other debris as you ogle the Empire State Building. It's just not attractive.

4. If you want to stare at people.
a. Don't. They are probably crazy.


Subway Rules

1. Entering & Exiting
a. do not, do NOT, DO NOT stand still on the stairway for ANY reason. Examples of idiotic reasons why people stand in the stairwell:
  • Starbucks guy, who has been like a bug in your ass during the entire walk to the subway, suddenly HAS to finish his conversation before he loses the precious signal on his iPhone
  • Upper East Side Nanny has two children in a stroller but chooses to use the non-elevator entrance/exit, blocking traffic in both directions and requiring help from a number of chivalrous strangers
  • Idiotic Rich Couple from Greenwich do not know if this entrance is exactly the one they need, launch into a 5-minute conversation with one another during which they debate the pros and cons attached to this particular entrance, and have to ask three to five random streetwalkers if this is the best way to get to Times Square.
b. Observe same rules as listed above for pedestrians: slowpokes to the right.

2. Waiting for the Train
a. The EXACT spot where you get off the staircase is not the only place you can wait for the train. There is an entire platform of space to choose from (shocking)! If your area is crowded, move somewhere else. You've been walking all day anyway.
b. Don't stare at people. They are probably crazy.

3. Riding the Train
a. Let people exit before you knock me over to get on. Don't worry, everyone at Times Square will be able to get in. The conductors have your back; they know you're a tourist and probably an imbecile.
b. If there is an ENTIRE ROW of open seats, don't come sit next to me. I will shoot you a dirty look, roll my eyes and possibly spit at you. There is no such thing as "strength in numbers" when it comes to riding the train. The further away you get from me (oh yeah, and everyone else), the better.
c. THERE IS A SUBWAY MAP RIGHT THERE, JACKASS. Why are you opening out your own full size, full color subway map and slashing Upper East Side Nanny's eye? She may have stopped traffic on the way into the station, but don't punish her by blinding her. Even real New Yorkers occasionally have to peruse the train's subway map. Be discreet. Take a look. Confirm with your spouse or group of Japanese tourists that you are indeed going the right way. If not, simply exit at the next stop, take a look at the HUGE subway map in the station, and get it together!!
d. Don't talk LOUDLY about the show you just saw, the sites you took in, or the restaurant where you just "got a little crazy" with that extra martini. Believe me, the entire train does not care or need to hear about it. Someone might elbow you in the stomach and make you lose your martini.
e. Don't talk across the aisle. It's just plain obnoxious. Either sit with your companion, or if there is no space stand your ass up next to them if you HAVE to continue your conversation.
f. Don't stare at people. They are probably crazy.

General Rules to Remember
1. Wearing gym sneakers with your dress and full face of makeup for the matinee is a dead giveaway. Don't be a target: either spring for a cab or suck it up and get blisters.
2. Don't stare at people. They are probably crazy.
3. If you can't follow these rules, take a fucking cab.



Thursday, January 14, 2010

Reality Bites.

At the risk of giving away my age, I will take a moment to reminisce about sitting in my Communications classes in college and discussing the "new age" of reality television. I remember thinking: "What about the Real World New York?" After all, that was the original reality show. In retrospect I realize we truly were talking about a new age of reality television: the era of "The Mook."

In those college days (i.e. Phoebe's days of 'yore'), we discussed "The Mook" as a douche-y, lazy, beer-guzzling, classic fraternity-type guy who draws the ardor and empathy of Middle America. More generally, dictionary.com defines a mook as "a contemptible, incompetent person." Most of us would be hard-pressed to find a reality character who is not at least contemptible OR incompetent; generally they are both of these and then some. Hence, the only way they can succeed in life is playing the role of a "reality" TV star on a completely unrealistic television show.

Let's take for example the latest horrific addition to the reality scene: the quickly hated (I mean loved... I mean hated...) "Jersey Shore." In an era so saturated with reality shows that we no longer remember how NOT to live vicariously through some stranger's TV life, everyone is looking for the next recipe for reality success. The new formula turned out to be an oldie but a goodie:
  1. Throw a bunch of 20-somethings in a house
  2. Make sure they have plenty of access to alcohol
  3. Mix
They will inevitably butt heads, fight, and generally cause drama. For this version, we simply remove any semblance of class, intelligence, and 'politically correct' character variety in exchange for guidos and guidettes. No one is gay, "ethnic," or particularly interesting (no one is from the Jersey Shore either - a fact that apparently only Seaside Heights residents seem to care about).

Well... apparently they became interesting, wherever they were from. From a slow start debut episode with 1.375 million viewers in the 12-34 age range, the "bad car accident syndrome" (as I like to call it) progressed to a season finale with 4.8 million viewers, up 33% from the previous week (http://tvbythenumbers.com/2010/01/22/jersey-shore-first-season-ends-with-series-high-4-8/39816). Even the Reunion show pulled in 4 million viewers.

So what does this say about us? What kind of world do we live in when "GTL" (that's Gym-Tan-Laundry for the less informed) becomes part of daily vernacular? When Mike wants to trademark "The Situation" (his nickname for his abs)? When Snookie's hair clip from circa 1988 becomes popular again?!

In short, I believe it means that we are eternally fascinated... by ourselves. It is a strange, narcissistic need to understand the "me" that is not really "me" but someone else. Who doesn't see a bit of themselves in JWoww's slutty shirts? Or Pauly D's spiky hair? Or Ronnie's inexplicable "one punch" violence?

OK - well I don't see myself in any of those things. But, at the minimum, maybe I harbor a bit of Ronnie's hopeless romantic; or Samantha's sweet bitch. They like to drink. They like to dance.

I may not fist pump the way they do, but I'll be the first to admit it - I, for one, couldn't get enough.