It’s funny because whenever I come to New York, people always tell me about far-flung places that I, now a slightly bewildered tourist in this city, have barely heard of. (Although I seem to be pretty good at finding every TJ Maxx and Bed, Bath, and Beyond.)
When people say, “You must go to Williamsburg!” – I look at them funny, wondering why they are suggesting I head to a colonial in Virginia for dinner where folks are dressed in traditional garb. Red Hook was a place where many people only went one-way, in the boot of a Town Car. And bad things happened to people on streets in Manhattan whose name contained a letter…at least according to my mother.
I’ve gotten with the lingo a bit so I don’t look like a hick when people tell me about all these places, but no one ever talks about Staten Island.