People here in Delray Beach always say to me, “You must love this time of year – all of the New Yorkers are in town.” My reply? Hell no.

These are not my New Yorkers. My New Yorkers don’t complain and throw a tantrum when they aren’t seated within 10 minutes of showing up at a busy restaurant like Tramonti or Vic & Angelo’s on a Friday night for an 8 pm rez. And my New Yorkers don’t throw hissy fits and threaten employees at Walgreens who won’t honor a 5 cent off coupon that expired over a month ago, explaining that they were “up north” and just got here. And my New Yorkers most definitely don’t push their poodles around in a baby carriage made for dogs.

In reality, this is my least favorite time of year living in South Florida. Actually, the entire winter, when the snowbirds show up, is pretty awful in general but holiday season is excruciating. It’s the time when my peaceful, adorable little beach town gets invaded with rude New Yorkers and I’m basically in a bad mood the whole time.

Let me explain. I’m from New York. I am a die-hard New Yorker, no matter where I happen to be living right now. Friends still call me and ask for dinner or bar recommendations – and I haven’t lived in Manhattan full-time for almost 3 years. I love New Yorkers. But the New Yorkers who come down here for the holidays are not my people. Most aren’t from the city – it’s more of a suburban crew with an elitist, entitled attitude. Gross. It’s a whole lot of really needy, demanding folk who likely took the flight straight from MacArthur and will stay here just long enough to really piss me off. Congrats, you have a Bentley and Birkin – you’re still an asshole. And you’re crowding the sidewalk.

Sure, I’ve had my struggles with adjusting to life down here. It can be boring sometimes and the energy isn’t the same as NYC. Duh.

But, over time, I have really come to peace with what Delray is all about: I do a ton of yoga, eat healthy, walk on the beach and have even made some really amazing friends – and it only took me two years!

But seriously, while it surely isn’t NYC, Delray had been a nice break. I’ve learned to slow down and enjoy things here, just accept it for what it is and not try to make it NYC. And I really have an amazing situation, spending weeks at a time in the Big Apple whenever I want, having held on to my apartment in Greenwich Village when I moved south. Often, when I get back to Palm Beach County after a week or two in Manhattan – where days and nights are packed with seeing many friends, going to any and every new restaurant, and walking the streets for hours – it’s a welcome break. I get to relax.

Then the holiday crowd appears and my quiet little life is shattered. They show up in town and take over my tiny Starbucks and are all so excited to tell anyone who will listen about how they’re from New York, albeit Long Island or Westchester. News flash – everyone in Delray is from New York. You aren’t special. Just annoying.

Maybe I’m just slightly jealous because when the holidays or season are over, they are heading back north. Perhaps. But they will still be their same intolerable selves – and I’ll have my life back.