The Real Deal

I had a friend once, I think that she lives in LA now, who said that if you’re not from NYC, you have to live in NYC for at least 10 years before you’re considered a NYer.

(Note: she revised this sentiment on September 12th 2001 when she said, “Remember how I told you it’d take you ten years to become a NYer? Well, scratch that. Consider yourself in the club.)
(It’s been a few years and I still get a little jumpy about certain smells and the sight of dust on a man’s boots. But I remember feeling that day that I would have rather have waited the 10 years.)

I was trying to find something on the internet that confirmed this 10-year rule when I stumbled across this charming little article in Time Out.

At my mother's insistence, I had to leave The City in late 2001. I came back in early 2003. As of this March past, it's been 5 years since I've been back here. I feel a special kind of pleasure in knowing that in a leetle over five years I've managed to do nearly everything on the Time Out list. It appears, 9/11 notwithstanding, that I am now able to call myself a NYer. I'm the Real Deal.

Check out the article to see if you can say the same.