Full Credits

Stats & Data

August 12, 2009


For those of us who grew up in and around NYC (and by around I mean Westchester County), there was a silent rule, a code if you will, avoid dating someone from The Islands. Long and Staten to be more precise. It is such a headache, a pain in the ass to see them. The traffic, the accents and yes people from The Islands have different NY accents and totally different mentalities. The everything is better here mentality, you wouldn't know 'cause you're not from here mentality, the once a week you go there, they come to you mentality. Who wants that type of fucking relationship. Well if it's just fucking, that's another story.

You meet someone in a bar or a club, you start to talk to them asking the obligatory questions, blah blah blah, what do you do, where do you live, OK stop right there. If you did not ask that within the first 5 minutes of meeting someone you have opened a can of Bridge and Tunnel. You would know whether or not this conversation would cease or proceed. If they said they live on The Island, that is your cue to exit, stage left. Pick an excuse or pick a multitude of excuses but just run the other way. The only thing to come out of The Islands are Guido/etts Maximus and Uber Yentas. Please see any Gotti Boys episode and you will know what I'm talking about. As far as the Uber Yenta thing goes, I went to college with a girl who had a name plate and it said, I shit you not :Jewish Princess. Yes these are all tell tale signs that it's time to get ill, literally.

Now if you did not ask that question in a timely manner, got to know them, did a little bump and grind, and you now see it's 3:30am. You ask her if you can take her home and she says “I live on the Island” or “I'm here with my friends, we live on Staten Island”. There is nothing that can bring you down at 4am faster than those boner deflating phrases. You have now wasted valuable time and money.

There are now two scenarios(well maybe three, but if you did three you needed your head examined):

1.She says it's OK, we can go to your place. Which is still a dilemma, she is now going to know where you live. And you know that some chicks from the Islands can be a bit psycho, look at Amy Fisher for crying out loud.

2. Tell her you had a great time ask for her number and give her yours. Hoping that she calls you because it's long fucking distance. Now with this scenario it's easy to get out of, losing the number, not answering the phone, funeral, swine flu, etc. But if you go back to the same bar/club the in the upcoming weeks, you now have to do the avoi-dance. But only for a short amount of time, or you just never go back there again because they allow Bridge & Tunnel people inside.

3.You agree in your drunken-horned up-state of mind to go to The Island, either one, you don't care you are drunk and horny. You get there you get your thing on, pass out and then wake up and realize you are not in your place. You are hungover, your mouth is fuzzy and realize you now have to get back to reality and you have no idea how to get there. Do you call a cab, ask her for a ride, or just leave and figure it out on your own. Either way you're fucked and hopefully a lesson has been learned.

Jersey is next................