I'm Right, You're Wrong, Go Eff Yourself...AKA, The Long Island Detriment

Things move a little more slowly in PA. Scranton, while technically a city, can often be found empty...even on a main drag such as the one we live on. We live about a block from one of the big Scranton attractions...namely The Steamtown Mall...and yet there is never any traffic and finding a spot right next to the mall on a Saturday afternoon is not a problem.

The second day we were in Scranton, we were "warned" by some locals of a huge parade happening that day. We were advised to head home quickly to avoid the throngs of people that would be heading down to our street, which was the main path of the parade. Fearing a Macy's Thanksgiving Day scenario, Dustin and I scurried back to our apartment, threw the windows open and prepared ourselves for anarchy.

I think four and a half people showed up to watch a parade of a few hundred. Apparently everyone was marching in the parade leaving Scranton to remain a ghost town. It was like a ceremony for ghosts.

Since that day, we've learned that PA has different levels of measurement for things like "crowded" and "quickly" and "unsafe." We've also started to notice something a little gross about ourselves, which I intend to outline in this blog entry.

While driving home from a delicious Olive Garden dinner in Dixon City, (again, by "city," PA means "town that has less farmhouses than average and a Target") Dustin commented about how he found himself being quite vocal in his sales meetings. This led to a conversation about how we should probably keep ourselves in check when it came to our "Long Island attitudes."

Let me explain. I really do think that Dustin and I, for the most part, are very nice people. But I also think that if you fuck with us, we will destroy you either verbally or physically. I also think that this is a very common trait among people who grew up on LI. Of course there are varying degrees of this "fuck with me and die" mentality...for example if my sister lived here she would be in jail by now...but this agressive, defensive attitude has reared its ugly head in several circumstances in the past five weeks or so...and as Dustin said earlier, it's a very uncomfortable mirror to be held up to one's face. Here's one example of how I know I need to work on losing my Long Island attitude...

Give Me Electricity or I'll Give you Death

So our Landlord's business offices are on the bottom floor of the building in which we live. I consider this a good thing in case of a problem. A few days ago, there was such a problem. My landlord is either very busy or just wants people to believe he's really busy, so he has a series of women who work in his office do his bidding. I'm home, enjoying some daytime TV and Facebook stalking when there's a timid, non intrusive knock at the door. I'm already defensive.

I don't know anyone in Scranton. Who the EFF is knocking on my door. It's TEN AM. WHAT IF I WAS SLEEPING GOD DAMMIT. WHAT IF MY CATS WERE SLEEPING???? WHAT IF THE BABY WAS HERE AND SHE WAS SLEEPING?!?!?!?!?

I open the door to reveal, according to her crooked name tag, Barbara. Barbara is in her late forties, her hair has been dyed a shade of red that does not exist in nature, the only bit of makeup she is wearing is a coral colored lipstick and her ill fitting, bright yellow work shirt is tucked snugly into a pair of business slacks that emphasize her lady parts.

I have judged Barbara in about three seconds. I already know I do not like Barbara based on nothing more than appearance.

"Yes?" I say. I hear the snippiness in my voice as I use my right foot to keep the cats from escaping through the small crack I have the door opened to.

"Hi, I'm Barbara," she replies, forgetting about her crooked name tag. "I just wanted to let you know that the electric company stopped in today to put a block on this apartment because you haven't transferred it to your name. I managed to put them off until Friday, but you have to call them and put it in your name."

Barbara's tone was a little cold and stern, but at the same time matter of fact and professional. But no matter how she could have or would have worded this information, my Long Island ears heard:

"Hey fatty. We're shutting off your fucking power because you're an asshole. Good luck with that."

Now let me backtrack for a second. When we moved in, our landlord informed us that HE would be tranferring the electric into our name. I know this to be fact because not only was Dustin standing right next to me when he said it, but also because I grilled him on it several times.

So clearly, this was the reason for my continued dickish interaction with Barbara.

"Well Barbara," I said, drawing out the syllables of her name as if they were insults, "Your boss informed me that HE would be taking care of this. If that was not the case, I should have been informed. I have rented apartments before, Barbara. I know what I'm doing. Don't you think I would have set up the electric if I knew I was supposed to?"

Barbara blinks, clearly taken aback by my tone. PA residents are masters in the fine art of passive aggressiveness...in fact I think that's where the state abbreviation comes from...it's the kind of passive aggressiveness that you're not quite certain actually happened until much later when you're on the toilet or something and it dawns on you that you were condescended to. But I think that's as "Long Island" as they get. Everyone just kinda talks a little snippily but nobody ever is an outright jerk.

Barbara was expecting to have this type of familiar, comfortable, PA interaction when she knocked on my door, but instead she got a Long Islander who goes from zero to 90 in about 2.3 seconds.

"Well...cl...clearly there was a misunderstanding," Barbara stammered, her tone softening a bit. "You can call today and put the electric in your name, that's all you have to do."

She had already backed off and realized she was out bitched, but that didn't stop me from continuing my nastiness.

"Do you have the number of the electric company?" I demanded, forcing myself to not blink and maintain eye contact, a trick I learned in conversation manipulation many years ago. It makes people super uncomfortable.

Barbara's eyes went to the ceiling for a moment, nervous. "Um...let me think..." she tried to buy herself some time. She had backed up several steps, her left foot pointed in the direction of an escape route.

"Don't bother to think," I snapped. "What is the electric company's name, I'll look it up online while I still have power." I snapped the last word.

"Pennsylvania Power and Light," she blurted out quickly. "I'm sure it won't be a problem."

"If it IS a problem, I will contact Charles," I informed her, referring to our landlord. With that, I shut the door in Barbara's face.

Now, it should have ended there. But even when they've won, a Long Islander goes for the mortal wound.

My fingers were dialing Dustin before I could even catch my fuming breath.

"Hello? Are you ok?" Dustin answered. (This is how all of our phone conversations start because I never call unless there's a problem. We're a texting couple.)

"You won't BELIEVE what just happened," I fumed. I recounted the tale of Barbara, knowing that I was exaggerating her tone. "She was such a bitch! And what the fuck? The Landlord is an asshole! He fucked up!" I finished.

And Dustin, being a Long Island man, agreed with me. "I'll be right home to deal with this."

While Dustin was stomping down the street towards home, I dialed up Pennsylvania Power and Light, where my attitude continued to shine.

"Pennsylvania Power and Light, how may I help you?" A pleasant voice greeted me.

"Yeah, hi," I snapped. "I have a problem. I just moved to Scranton. My landlord was SUPPOSED to put the electric in my name, but didn't and now YOU GUYS are gonna shut it off."

I said "you guys" as if I was cursing out this poor customer service representative.

"Alright ma'am I'll be happy to assist you with this...."

Less than two minutes later, I had the power in my name with absolutely no problems.

But I wasn't done yet.

"Is there anything else I can help you with today?"

"Yeah, we've been here for a month, what happens to that electric bill...I don't wanna get charged for two months at a time because my Landlord messed up..."

"No ma'am, that won't happen. You will be charged starting tomorrow."

"Are you sure?" I barked.

"Yes ma'am. Was there anything else I can help you with?" Jeesh, even PA residents are intimidated by me over the phone.

"No, thank you. You've been very helpful," I said, sounding anything but thankful.

By this time, Dustin had arrived back home, where we exchanged curse words over the fact that the landlord denied ever saying he would take care of the electric transfer. We said things like, "Can you believe that dick?" and "What a dumb asshole" for a few minutes before we both realized there was nothing left to say about it since the situation was resolved.

Funny thing is, I really believe that ANY Long Islander would have reacted in a similar fashion: prepared for a fight. As we reviewed our behavior today, we realized that, as Long Islanders, we anticipate the worst and act before we have to REact. I think about all the times I've gotten into it with various people on the island and I'm starting to realize...that's not normal.

We've had two specific driving/car related incidents here that highlight the LI mentality too. A day or two after I got here, I was pulling out of the parking lot and almost hit two college students who I did not see crossing the lot exit. Immediately I wanted to yell "WHY DON'T YOU LOOK WHERE YOU'RE GOING?" But before I could, they smiled and waved at me. Today, Dustin was over tired, and went to cross an alley where a car came zooming out and had to slam on its brakes to avoid hitting him. His instinct was to slam on the hood of the car and yell, but before HE could, they were apologizing and smiling at him.

It's unnerving, being the biggest dick in place. That's not to say that there aren't ANY nasty people in PA...I'm sure there are tons. But it's not healthy or normal to go into every situation prepared for things to go badly...or ready to jump down someone's throat...or worse, beat them to death. It's not right to judge people from one shitty interaction or a misunderstanding. It's not okay to constantly feel like people are out to hurt you or make your life miserable.

I'm starting to subscribe to that whole "everything happens for a reason" mentality. Maybe our lives as parents and Pennsylvanians has occured to get us to slow down; to better deal with the little bumps that show up in the road...the Barbaras that come bearing irritating news through no fault of her own.

I think our Long Island confidence has helped us get here...has helped Dustin land a great job...and has given us the strength to get through a really tough, scary spot in life...but I'm really looking forward to the day that I can smile and wave at the person who almost kills me with their car.