The true New Yorker secretly believes that people living anywhere else have to be, in some sense, kidding.

New York is a city with virtually no habitable public space - only private spaces expensively maintained within the general disaster.

There is no question that there is an unseen world. The problem is, how far is it from midtown and how late is it open?

If this fails to convince, I being out my secret weapon, announcing with portentous deliberation that Barbara. Damn. Walters. Does. Not. Drive. Heard of her?
This sort of accusatory conversion of course almost never goes down with native New Yorkers, people who, like Barbara Walters, live in that barbaric third world country that is Manhattan, and thus have yet to hear of newfangled American Advances like automobiles, happiness, and yards.

What's the use of a great city having temptations if fellows don't yield to them?

I really think people understand that in New York City we have high taxes.