I’m not sure I would pass the litmus test of being from Jersey – the test being, we’re always in a hurry. We speed to the red light, stop on a dime, then tear down the highway as if it was a NASCAR race.
When I realized that I was the only one in Jersey who actually observes the speed limit, it made me wonder. I was born here… right? I was pretty young at birth, so I don’t really remember first-hand, but I’ve been taking my mom’s word for it my whole life.
Am I really from Jersey? Let’s think on this.
- I don’t consider stop signs optional
- I don’t consider tailgating the normal method of driving
- I don’t consider seeing a Bon Jovi cover band in a dive bar a fun night out
Hmmm…. Now I’m wondering!
Oh wait, it’s okay. I still default to big hair (even though it’s no longer the 80s), I think nail art is bee-yoo-tee-full, and I consider lamé to be anything but lame.
Yeppers. I am indeed from Jersey! Youse gotta prahlem widat?