New York City neophytes have it hard. Achieving mildly elitist urban sophistication and New York know-how is a complex chemistry, a layering game. All at once, they’re expected to know the best dive bar in Brooklyn and the best club on the LES for the underaged, while committing recent exhibitions on Museum Mile to memory. They must avoid “touristy” landmarks as they would the plague—constantly transferring at but never exiting the Times Square subway station, save ironic excursions with stuffy relatives.
