Sample Sizes

I've got irrefutable, scientifically sound evidence that people in New York are nicer than people in Philly.

A couple of weekends ago, I met a few of my friends (Ian and his girl Kim, Chandra and her girl Tavara) in Philadelphia to have a touristy weekend. We stayed at Elizabeth and Greg(g?)'s place, which are a few of the Quackenfriends with their two dogs, two cats, one newborn, and one 2.5 year old. Good mammals and a real credit to their species, all of them (except maybe that temperamental basement cat).

I had been listening to the JLQ iPod a bit on the train ride down and stashed it in the front packet of my trusty AMEX duffel bag before exiting the SEPTA R7 train in Philly. When we got to the Quackenfriend's place, I didn't see the iPod. The only possible explanations were that the iPod was stolen from my bag or that it fell out somehow and some guy in a Chase Utley jersey saw this happen, picked it up, began cackling, and scurried off to his 3-bedroom house in the suburbs. These are the only things that could have happened.


Contrast that to my experiences this month in NYC.

A few weeks ago, during an especially hot day, I was rushing to an appointment off 1st Avenue on the Upper East Side. A few seconds after I got to the building, two tweens rush in after me and inform me that I had dropped my cell phone. I thanked them a few times and headed up the elevator to my appointment, thinking that I should have given them ten bucks or something for being such rad girls.

Last week, during a somewhat hot day, I was rushing to an appointment off Lexington Avenue on the Upper East Side. I walked out of the 6-train stop at 96th street, listening to my iPod and generally oblivious to the world. I saw a woman in front of me stop and look back over her shoulder down the subway stairs. Since it was 9:15am and I had just taken four trains and was late to my appointment, my first thought was, "MOVE, YOU RETARDED IDIOT SHITFUCK! I AM LATE AND I HATE THE MORNINGS AND RUSH HOUR AND YOUR FACE!" A fraction of a second later, I figure I may want to look at what's going on and maybe step out of my grumpy morning zone for a second. Turns out a 30-something year-old guy was trying to tell me I had dropped my cell phone from my pocket and that maybe I should take it from him. I thanked him a few times and walked to my appointment, thinking that it was ok that I didn't give him ten bucks or something for being such a rad guy.


My conclusion? That I shouldn't drop my phone so much? No. That I shouldn't go to the Upper East Side anymore because every time I lose my phone I'm there? No, that's not the point.

The correct conclusion is that 100% of the time when I lose one of my electronics in NYC, someone makes damn sure I get it back. And 100% of the time when I lose portable electronics in Philly, a guy in a Chase Utley jersey steals it, then sells it to buy mediocre cheese steaks at Pat's and Gino's.