The Bitter Local
The Struggle is Real
Far, far away tucked deep on the outskirts of the New York island lies a land of spectacular beaches and luscious green acres. This land, though beautiful, holds much evil. Lingering among-st friendly, hard-working townsfolk are the retched “others.” The others are made up of trust fund babies, orange-skinned gold diggers, “cidiots,” and tourists. They have slowly been trickling in and over the most recent years become an inoperable cancer. Though this cancer seems to go into remission in the cold winter months, it breaks through with an unrelenting vengeance every Memorial Day weekend.
For years the townsfolk tried as best they could to dismantle the blows by finding peaceful solitude in back roads and secluded beaches. Unfortunately, no good secret can remain untold and so the others came. They came by bus, train, taxis, and cars. Some even arrived on private jets. The point is that they came…and some remain.
The townsfolk were at an impasse. Miserable and demoralized as they are by the others, they know there are no other options. To fight for their ability to remain on their land, they must serve the others. They must deliver their food, prune their hedges, and in some cases, massage the others’ putrid scales. And so they have and so they do.
Long ago, it was discussed that the villagers could live in peace with the others. Amiable as they were, the townsfolk opened their doors only to find them shoved in their own faces. The others’ looked down on them- a smudge in their Louis Vuitton sunglasses. They cursed, complained, and forged on. They built ghastly condominiums on the beautiful, virgin land, bought out the villagers’ homes, and replaced mom and pop shops with exorbitant atrocities.
For the twenty-four years of my life I have been a part of this local community. I have witnessed and experienced tumultuous times and I wouldn’t have changed it for all the riches the others possess. Living on the lower side of the scale financially can’t help but humble you. Try as I have, there is no other place I would rather call home. I think we, the townsfolk, as gritty and bitter as we can become, truly experience a unique magic that only comes from living here year-round. We are proud to be natives of this enchanted terrain dubbed “The Hamptons.”
***Please note. I was born and raised in beautiful Southampton village. I have had the pleasure of living in a safe, loving environment. My father’s employers have been nothing but generous, caring, and down-to-earth. Some of the best people I have ever and will ever meet are rich as well as kind-hearted. This is simply a local’s rant.
Living out here can be extremely stressful, especially when we are often made to seem less-than. There is nothing more frustrating then living in such a stunning place and not being able to reap the benefits. It is equally as frustrating when are laws and ourselves are not respected. However, there is no black and white. We live in a world of grey. Here is a story from behind my color blind lenses.
