Becoming a New Yorker

The other day I was walking through Times Square to transfer to a new subway stop (the trains stopped at 50th and it was this whole big mess, don't ask) and it was loud and bright and crowded and the people were walking as slow as my grandma and I bumped into someone without apologizing. I didn't even feel bad. I was more annoyed at them for getting in my way.

When I finally got to the train, I sat next to this large man who smelled quite horrible, but didn't care, because it was a seat, and thought about what had just happened. I had gotten annoyed at tourists. I hated being in Times Square. When had I become this person?

I think I'm finally becoming a New Yorker, you guys. Here are some other indications:

• I bucked up the courage and bought a $20 umbrella. Those dinky $5 ones were just not cutting it.
• I always move to the middle of the train. 
• I know which lines go to which area. 
• I successfully gave a lady directions to the Met.
• I don't feel bad about ignoring "homeless" people or hecklers.
• I feel no desire to do my hair in the heat. 
• I fall asleep to sirens, instead of waking up to them. 
• I successfully avoid eye contact with the people on my train. I know some of them are there on the same car with me everyday, but heck if I've even smiled at them before. 
• Falafel is my new favorite food. 
• I know that paying more than $40 for a Broadway show is a fool's errand.
• I wanted to give pointers to this poor kid trying to perform on the subway because he was going about it all wrong and had no confidence. 
• I've jaywalked in front of the cops more than once and they didn't even bat an eye.
• I look forward to getting into the subway car because it has air conditioning.
• My favorite drink is Snapple. 
• I have a favorite cheesecake place. And a favorite pizza place. And they're better than yours.