Part 3 of Yuppie Quiz

If you were indignant last week when the local bagel shop ran out of triple tofu light strawberry flavored cream cheese, the deli clerk rolled his eyes at you, and the guy behind scream “Move it along Shirley- go eat some grass in the park and let me get my bagel”, then you are a yuppie, and for your sake and that of your protruding vein by your right eyebrow, I hope the big tofu truck delivers your goods ( quickly!),……………..oh yeah and I apologize for my Uncle Charlie who was in back of you in line that day.

You May Indeed be a Yuppie....read on for Part 2

If you go to Barnes and Noble, sprawl yourself and your family out on the carpeted floor, read books until you get bored, and then go home without buying anything, you are a yuppie.

If you go for a relaxing bike ride in the park on a Saturday, throw on a pair of jogging pants and bring a bottle of water, you are a regular person. However, if you don overpriced neon biking shorts with matching helmet and gloves and really believe that you are indeed Lance Armstrong while going 50 along the bike path, then you are a yuppie and you have probably mowed down a child or two who was innocently trying to get to the playground.

Are You a Yuppie? Part 1

if you haven’t been out much lately and have any doubts to recognizing a native from a transplanted yuppie ( or even worse think you may be a yuppie yourself!!) , here are some clues:

If you avoid Key Food on Saturdays like you would the bird flu, then you are a native. I would rather go shopping at 9 pm any week night during a thunderstorm than brave the parade of yuppie couples invading the space. Yuppie couples with children are there with their young tots letting them wreak havoc up and down the small aisles and trying to reason with a one year old by asking him why he wants to smash the huge jar of pickles on the elderly lady in front of him? If a single guy is spotted there, he is usually on the cell phone with his significant other begging for her to point out the proper wheat germ for the lactose free frosting they will make for dessert. And every so often, while trying to make your way down the cookie aisle, a native gets stuck smack in the middle of a group of toesey wearing ( you know the flat sandals with one toe strap that usually only women wear), long hair sporting young yuppies in training espousing on a particular recipe with great introspection and bewilderment trying to figure out if white flour can be the one bad, bad ingredient in their Veggie surprise lasagna.

Much Like the Plague, Here Come the Yuppies!

Park Slope was once home to the working class. When I was growing up in the 70’s, families (assuming they saved up a bit and held a steady job) would one day attain the American dream of home ownership. It wasn’t a matter of if, only when.

Today, although both my husband and I work, don’t have any outstanding debt, and don’t engage in any extravagance, we are still unable to attain the necessary funds to buy a home in the neighborhood. We have 3 kids and split shifts to avoid the costs of hiring a babysitter.

So what exactly changed and when? Of course the large flux of young urban professionals taking the lunge and making the perfunctory crossing of the Brooklyn Bridge has had a major impact on the old neighborhood and everyone knows this. There have been countless articles, websites, blogs, and plain old street corner conversations on the topic. And there’s nothing new to say really. I mean I don’t necessarily blame these willingly uprooted affluent folk ( much). They do bring a sense of newness to the old stomping grounds, not to mention a deluge of organic produce sections in otherwise old fashioned supermarkets. So what’s all the drama about?

I think one conflict arises when these newbies pretend to know the neighborhood better than the natives. I once mentioned to a colleague and transplanted Sloper, the name of the school my children attend, and said it was in Park Slope.

“But isn’t that on Prospect Park West”, she asked.

“Yes, it is”, I replied.

She began to tilt her head and squint up her eyes and then proceeded to talk about specific boundaries that she had researched before moving here on an online map clearly stating that Prospect Park West is not located in Park Slope and how could I even think it was? It was clearly known as Windsor Terrace. Yes, I suppose the transplanted folk from Connecticut might think they know boundaries because they read them somewhere but they forget that us Park Slope oldies know straight away that Prospect Park West can be considered either Park Slope or Windsor Terrace depending on who was saying it at the time and furthermore did it really matter? I mean if we want to talk technicalities here, I must point out that any one who refers this street as “Prospect Park West” is in fact a relocated yuppie because natives know it has one of three names, “Ninth”, “Ninth Avenue”, or simply “The Avenue”. But I just smile and nod because engaging in a full out war over street boundaries is not my idea of riveting conversation.

I’m sure many of you will identify with this and probably have a “worst yuppie” story of your own. I encourage you to send them along to me- maybe we can start commiseration committee of our own.

Next post: Identifying Yuppies- a Starter course