Day 65: I Have Never Spent a Night in Long Island

My hatred of New York is well-established at this point. I guess this is as good a time as any to do a deep-dive in regards to why I feel this intense dislike of a large city.

First, and possibly most importantly, I’ll admit off the bat that I usually bring up my ill will in a humorous context (allegedly humorous?). My sense of humor is primitive and broad, definitely not nuanced. I tend to repeat the same types of jokes for years. Riffing on the things I "hate" gets cheap laughs from friends. I love making people laugh and I’m really bad at making people laugh, so this is the best I can do. If that makes sense.

So why New York specifically?

The origin of this hate is probably the fall of 2007. Before that year, I had visited New York a few times on day trips and felt no negative feelings. Traveling to the top of the Statue of Liberty as a Cub Scout was cool, walking past Ground Zero was sobering, visiting WWF New York restaurant was a nice birthday treat for a dummy kid who still liked wrestling. But the autumn of 2007 changed me.

The Phillies changed me. Our baseball team rallied at the end of the year, going 13-4 over their final seventeen games, winning the NL East title, all while the New York Mets, our dreaded rival, imploded in spectacular fashion.

And of course, it was my first month of college, the first month of a four-year party, and now all of a sudden I’m drinking and celebrating baseball wins and some of my classmates are from New York and so I’m rubbing it in their faces and I guess I slowly morphed from hating the Mets to hating New York itself.

There’s a second reason for hating New York, but the reason is more nebulous than a baseball scorecard, and maybe it might even smell a little bit like bullshit, but here it is.

I truly believe that Philadelphia is the greatest city on earth. New Yorkers, on the other hand—and I’ve observed this in action and in writing—not only believe that New York is the greatest city on Earth, but they also think that Philadelphia is a pissant town in comparison. New Yorkers have an unearned sense of superiority, and they are not bashful about it. And that pisses me off.

I get that I’m probably a hypocrite, because maybe I piss on New York every chance I get, and I piss on lesser cities than Philly. But this is a matter of "They started it!" If New Yorkers weren’t so fucking haughty about New York, than I wouldn’t need to shit on them.

I get that this also sounds somewhat pathetic, almost like Little Brother Syndrome. But being diagnosed with that syndrome would mean admitting that New York was better, as if I’m just, like, jealous or something. I’m not. And New York is by no fucking means better than Philly. It’s not even comparable.

But who knows, man. Maybe this is just retroactive justification for some bullshit scapegoat punching bag I cooked up in freshman year of college. Maybe New York is okay. I will not relinquish by claim that Philly is the best city in the world, but maybe I can relax my hatred of NY, turn it down a couple notches.

Case in point: I went to a wedding in Long Island for an old college friend. In fact, she was the person I remember quite clearly giving the most shit for the stinkin’ Mets. It got to the point in college where this chick literally punched a Phillies fan in the face. So, of course, that doubled down the razzing—"New Yorkers are dumb AND violent?!" And this pissed her off infinitely. My friend from New York is one of my favorite people. I was happy and honored to be invited to her wedding.

And we had a great time! In Long Island! Not a bad word was said about the city of New York all night (except the Best Man’s speech, which indicated that the groom is an Eagles fan, and you can see where this is going), and I was all the better for it.

So maybe I should lighten up.

Or maybe fuck New York. Fuck that fucking city in its ass. Worst city to ever exist.

Love,
Joey