I love New Yorkers

Selling pest-control services to businesses in some variation on NYC.

At a bar that a drink was named after:

“Who is the person I would talk to about pest control solutions?”

“Human or insect? I have plenty of human pests.”

At a generic company:

“I hire the pests here.”

“So you are the HR Manager?”


At a boisterous daycare center:

“We don’t have pests here.”

“Oh? I can hear them in the background.”

“Yeah, but it’s illegal to kill them.”

I grew up on this sense of humor. A co-worker finds New Yorkers rude. I go with Minnesota-Nice, play the straightman, and have fun.

I was at a Mes game at Shea, and was getting weary of people constantly getting up in my row and the row in front of me to go to concession stands. It started to drizzle lightly, and a lot of people moved back to seats out of the rain. The taciturn New Yorker in the seat next to me finally speaks: “I love da rain. It keeps da riff-raff away.”

Yep. I guess people from the heartland find New Yawkahs rude and brusque, I’ve always just found them savvy, fast-thinking (even if not particularly “smart”) and with little tolerance for BS and time-wasting. My kinda joes.

While walking around W 57th Street:

“Excuse me…how do I get to Carnegie Hall from here?”
sigh It’s up there on 7th.”

I was waiting on some major corner - maybe 5th and 30th, something like that - when a woman hailed a cab, dashed over, put one foot in… and yacked on her cell phone for almost a minute before closing the door and dashing off, without a word to the cabbie that I could see.

He looked at me and very slowly mouthed, “Fuuuuuucccckkk.”