You are a Mets fan. You're from Jersey. When people say they're from Jersey, you ask: "What exit?" Jets, not Giants. Devils, not Rangers. When given the choice between Rod Stewart, Norah Jones, and Ludacris at Jazz Fest, you pick Rod Stewart, because the rhythm of your heart is beating like a drum.
You prefer on-base percentage to batting average, steak to chicken, Rio to Sao Paolo, and Melanie over pretty much everything else, slingbox aside.You quote the Simpsons often, watch TV addictively, secretly hate the part of yourself that loves finance, while openly loving the part of yourself that hates Web 2.0.
You are our first customer. You wear the staple brown lightweight cords the way they're meant to be worn: comfortable around the waist and caboose, a clean tailored fit through the thigh, and right on down to the flare cut that says: "hey, I may be from Jersey and I might have gone to Princeton, but light me up that cigarette and I'll snap shoes on my feet." Introducing the Bryan Wolff Browns, aka BWBs.
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