Making a move to a city like New York and specifically Brooklyn is a big friggin’ deal. I am here, not only to tell you to fuggedaboutit, but I’ll even elaborate as to why you should stay in the Midwest.
Reason #1 – You’re never going to make it
This is the one thing that I kept hearing from people when I told them about my impending move. I literally had someone tell me, “Oh you’ll be back in two months.” I have realized that the people who tell you that you will never make it are simply too afraid to try. But let me ask you this: Where would we be if Menudo decided not to try? Answer: Sans Jonas Brothers. Where would we be if Chumbawamba hadn’t tried? Answer: Tubthumping-less. I’ll tell you another person that they will say will never make it: You. But this time they’re right. Don’t move here, you’ll never make it.
Reason #2 – You will get a girlfriend and a small dog
Fact: You will get a girlfriend. There are tons of women here. Fact: That girlfriend will make you get a dog. Fact: You are too broke to afford a big apartment, thus necessitating a small shitty dog. Look, I’m sorry to break it to you like this but if it can happen to Taye Diggs it will happen to you.
The worst news is, you will not be as lucky as Mr. Diggs. The girlfriend you find will have even shittier taste in canines and she will also be ugly. I’m sure you’re thinking that there are plenty of pretty women here for you to date. There are. But knowing your luck, and you know what I’m talking about, your girlfriend will be extra ugly and your dog will extra suck.
Reason #3 – It’s annoying here
I’m sure you think I am referring to the traffic, or the subway system, or the smog, or the noise. No. I am referring to everyone you meet incessantly talking about what neighborhood they live in. It is more rampant than the ubiquitous, “Nice weather isn’t it?” Instead of it being that easy, you have to listen to intolerable hipsters arguing about what is and isn’t considered Williamsburg. News Flash: No one fucking cares! Newsier Flash: Everyone in New York cares for some fucking reason! And you guessed it, no matter where you live, there is always somewhere better in the opinion of the guy whose jeans are tighter than the lips of the Illuminati. That brings me to my next point:
Reason #4 – Your pants aren’t tight enough
If you hope to make it here (which you won’t) amongst the social elite, you must don the mandatory, tight hipster jeans. There are some major problems with this. For firstsies, they look ridiculous.
Secondsies, someone will always have tighter jeans than you. Peter Pan fits in better in Bed-Stuy than he does in Williamsburg. If you do somehow find tight enough jeans, the problem then is getting to the bathroom fast enough after eating at the original Nathan’s on Coney Island. You’ll never make it. The only people in Brooklyn that don’t wear these nut stranglers? Minorities. Why? Because minorities have huge dongs and white Brooklynites don’t. Did I just say minority or did I say segue? Or both?
Reason #5 – You’re a racist
That’s right, if you are coming from the Midwest, or the South, or the West, or the North, basically anywhere but New York, you are inherently racist. Yes, I know you watch Oprah. You’re still a racist. There are so many brown people here. You will inadvertently crash your moving van by constantly checking to see if the door is locked every time you see someone with a higher melanin count than Michael Jackson. Too soon? You still think you are not a racist? If you move here you will be. Newsiest Flash: New Yorkers are the biggest racists of all.
All of them. It’s just that here no one burns crosses or forms meetings with names that contain jungle cats. Why? Because they all have to catch the train for their hour long ride to work. It’s too bad too, because they’re never going to make it. On time that is. You? You won’t make it at all.
Reason #6 – Everything IS more expense here.
That’s right, everything. I would like to tell you that it is unaffordable so that you don’t move here but I just can’t. It’s not actually the prices that are the problem. It’s the fact that you pay twice as much for half the service. If you think things run slowly in the South. Well buddy, git reddy to wait. That non-english speaking, sloth like, worker at Burger King knows she has job security because you won’t do her job because you think you are above it.
If you do actually want to get fast friendly service, you have to go to a non-corporate, family owned bodega and pay four dollars for a can of Chef Boyardee. Either way you will either starve before you get your food, or before you save up enough to buy it. Thus, you guessed it, you are overcome by not-gonna-make-it-ness.
Reason #7 – Craigslist is full of shit
It looks like there is work on Craigslist.com. Especially in New York. It seems that there are tons of jobs out there for a go getter like you. There actually probably are. The problem is, none of those employers seem to have a fucking phone. To make matters worse, the idea of a possible employer emailing someone back is like asking a Hasidic Jew to shake a woman’s hand. The only thing you will ever get a response to is a full-time unpaid internship in a blow job factory. They have tons of those here. Too bad they only export. But I digress.
The point is, you will never find work, therefore you will not be able to eat, therefore you will never make it.
Reason #8 – Your bike is not cool enough
In some southern and midwestern towns there are small pockets that consider themselves “cultured” and “progressive" and most of all “bike friendly.” People like you that live in those areas think that they can just move to New York with their fixie and everything will be fine. What you don’t know is that areas like that are full of turds that are too good for bikes with gears but they and their bikes are just rabbit pellets on the grand scale of turds. The bad news is, if you do happen to buy the baddest bike on the block, you then have to dress the part of the biggest turd. Gloves and all.
If you're okay with that then that’s fine. Just know, that as you and your bike stand now, your bike’s gears aren’t fixed enough, the chain and rims don’t match enough, you aren’t dressed turdy enough and you’ll never make it enough.
Reason #9 – Your bike will get stolen
So you say you found the hipsterest bike ever and a job. And the best thing is, you can ride your bike to work. Wrong!
While you were the asshole in the bagel shop trying to look like a real New Yorker by ordering a bagel with lox and cream cheese, your bike was being lifted by a magic bike stealing troll that has the ability to open and close any bike lock known to man. If he doesn’t do that, he’ll just steal your seat as if to say, “Fuck you…in the ass.” Now you will have to ride the subway two miles and 14 stops out of your way because, that’s the way everything is planned here. What would be a ten minute ride by bike, will now take you an hour, making you late for the one job that actually exists in the city only to find a pink slip waiting for you at your desk with the words, “You’re never going to make it” scrawled on the back.
Reason #10 – It’s fucking HOT!!!
I came from the south where it is hot and very humid. The south has one thing that for some reason has not caught on yet in this, the epicenter of culture and worldliness, and that is air conditioning.
No one has it except places you can’t afford to hang out in. Like banks, and really high price clothing stores. I don’t just mean the trendy small shops in Brooklyn, but the places that only sell suits, and you have to fill out a credit check before they’ll let you put your subway soiled pumas on their African Tulip Tree hardwood floors. I know what you’re thinking. It’s summer, of course it’s hot, just wait until winter. And I say, well no shit. Then it’s going to be fucking cold. Then instead of not making it because you've died Oregon Trail style of dehydration, you'll freeze to death. Good argument, dick head.
After all of this reader, you may be concerned for my well-being. Don’t worry your failure destined little head. I love it here. My girlfriend is pretty, my dog is large and so is my apartment. I store my amazi-bike in that large apartment that is in whatever neighborhood it happens to be in. I love all people, and my huge dong fits snugly in my baggy jeans. But then again, I am not you. I already live here. I have made it.