How it works here in New York

the do’s and the dont’s

Every now and then I check that incredibly annoying folder ‘other messages’ on Facebook. I still don’t see the point of a folder where spam and messages from non-friends come together. Either have a spam and a non-friend folder or just have a spam folder. But together? No. I don’t get it. Okay, I’m getting sidetracked. Back to now. Now I’m sitting on a public terrace under a parasol and opening that damn inbox. Besides some obscure spam messages, I count not 1, not 2, not 3, but just 12 messages from complete strangers with their full flight schedule next to the question if I have New York tips ? Yes, sure, check my blog or quite a few articles for Amayzine!?

This somewhat slightly irritated feeling quickly makes way for a bit of pride. I actually feel very flattered by all those questions and feel like a New York guru. Well, guru, a bit. Because even after almost two years, I still sometimes get on the wrong subway (find ‘live’ proof on Snapchat) and Google Maps remains my BFF. So guru, I don’t know.

But, now you would think, here comes another list of places where you must eat and drink and dance. No. I have decided to shed light on my guru status from a different angle. Namely, some basic knowledge about the how and the what (and thus not the where) in this city. In short: the do’s and the dont’s.

Almost always I feel flattered when I order a glass of wine in a restaurant. After pointing to the Sancerre, the (to me music to the ears) sentence usually follows ‘Can I see your ID please?’ Now I was under the impression that every time this happened, I was seen as under 21. But unfortunately. The alcohol limit here is 21, but you have to show your ID until you’re 40. So, if bar staff suspects you are under 40, they must officially ask you for a photo ID. So always take your driver’s license or something with you, because otherwise, it really will just be a cola. A gin and tonic can be completely written off. Because you can’t get into a club without ID at all.

I still can’t get used to it. But you put your fork down, or your plate is already gone and BAM: the bill is on the table. Europeans feel quite chased away by this phenomenon. We love long dining and that bill is a sign that we must leave immediately. The American sees this differently. This is service. In their eyes, it is up to the customer to determine when to pay, and for that, it is necessary that the bill is directly in hand. Logical? Yes, maybe a bit. But I still love having plates on the table, another bottle of wine, and some nibbling and chatting without the bill on the table.

In an earlier post, I mentioned that here everything is done with either a debit or a credit card. The European debit card does not exist, and that means you pay in restaurants and such by handing over your card. And this works like this: you receive the bill in a folder. You check this. Then you place your payment card in that same folder. The waiter takes this with him. He runs your card through the payment machine and then brings you two receipts. One of them is the so-called merchant copy. On this, you write the tip (minimum 18%), then you sign and that makes the transaction a done deal. I find this quite a calculation because you have to do the tip and the final total yourself. The tip is therefore deducted later and this all happens entirely on the basis of good faith. So always check your statements and take that customer copy with you. You probably never look at it again, but still. Better safe than sorry.

After ‘hello’ comes a ‘how are you?’. This is purely an extension of the welcome greeting and not an invitation to elaborate on your current state of being. But, what do you say then? On the West Coast, it’s very easy. You bounce the ball right back. So on their ‘Hi, how are you?’ follows your ‘Hi, how are you!’ and then it’s done. Here on the East Coast, it’s just a bit different. Here you respond with ‘Good, thank you’ and maybe even ‘Good, thank you. How are you?’. Nothing more, nothing less. And on.

Americans are very, very, very sensitive. Talking about politics? Not done. Talking about religion? Not done. About any personal weaknesses? Not done. Americans also find us very direct. As a European, I sometimes find that difficult and have received ‘the look’ a few times. You know, those eyes that say “are you seriously asking this?”, while I’m completely unaware of any bad words. But, I have found a tactic when I’m stared at like that and the atmosphere slowly drops to zero. You smile, you place your hand on your heart in a guilty manner and say ‘Oh I’m sorry, that’s very European of me to ask’. Often you get a nod, the conversation smoothly moves on to another topic, and the coldness is gone.

This is somewhat in line with the previous point. Because everything is ‘awesome’ and as long as you don’t know someone very well yet, don’t say anything about any possible weaknesses of that person. So avoid asking about ‘possible family expansion’ for example. That is sensitive and can be quite not so awesome (I speak from experience). So mainly ask about things you know are definitely awesome for them. Break the ice with that, share a lot about everything that is ‘awesome’ and then comes the depth. And that is of course also: awesome!

Americans and perhaps especially New Yorkers are very money-minded. The advantage of this is that you’re not immediately a show-off if you drive a fancy car. If you drive a Porsche, you must have done well that year. Americans are a bit more about granting that. The downside is, you can encounter those New Yorkers who only talk about money and from whom you can’t escape. I was at a birthday party where I sat next to an American couple. Him: big watch. Her: big Birkin. They both worked in finance and he turned to me. He took out his phone and then hell broke loose. He couldn’t stop talking about all his cars, the size of his house, the bathroom from Italy, and that they had just flown to Miami because that big Birkin was sold out in New York. So they flew a few hours to Miami for a bag. He thought it was amazing and I laughed like a farmer with a toothache.

Not on terraces, not in parks, not in squares, and also not in the disco. Smoking is officially not allowed in any indoor places or places labeled as ‘public’. So watch out if you want to take a puff in Central Park. Because there’s also a hefty fine lurking here. In the club, it’s a bit less strict… but still, be careful.

Sounds crazy, but it’s true. As a woman, you can walk around without a top of any kind. As long as it’s not for money and you can prove that (don’t ask me how), it’s allowed. And you all think America is so prudish. Ha, not at all. Long live the bare boobies!