A while back we had some family friends visiting from out of state and so, of course, they wanted to see the Jersey shore. As in the actual shore line. At the beach. On a Saturday. I don’t believe in going to the beach on Saturday [namely because everyone else in the free world does] but in the name of good hostesses everywhere, I smiled and away we went. If someone had asked me about the ride there I would have probably responded with “It was good.” Good as in exactly like every other time I’ve driven to the beach. Good as in completely unmemorable. Once settled on the beach, however, these out-of-towners looked at me in my beach chair, brainstorming out loud for the perfect Pandora station, and said “That’s it?! Now you just relax? Like nothing?” I looked at them, confused, and they started to laugh. Something about running three yellow lights, getting the finger after I cut someone off on the bridge, and stealing a parking spot from a woman with two kids in the backseat. [Like I said, exactly like every other time I’ve driven to the beach. Totally unmemorable.] Seeing my confusion they just kept laughing.
“We get it now,” they said “You and your family are so nice, we never got the Jersey stereotype. Now, we do.”