You may notice the term "yuppie" being bantered about on this site from time to time. You may also notice that it always has a negative connotation. Why, oh why do I harbor such ill will towards a seemingly innocent and harmless group of people? Does it stem from childhood? Hmmm. Could be, but probably not. In San Francisco, there are may different groups of people, but there seems to be a definite split between yuppies and the non-yuppies. It's not just me, either. One of the bathrooms at the Toronado (the one with the mirror) has a giant "Yuppies Go Home" painted on the wall with silver paint. Many of the yuppies in the City live in the area known as the Marina, with all it's trendy, shiny, sterile shops and restaurants and cafes. Many of the anti-yuppies live in my neighborhood, the Lower Haight, or another neighborhood referred to as simply "16th & Valencia." I recently read that a sushi bar identical to one that is now in the Marina was going to be opening in the 16th & Valencia area. I know that I can't be the only one disturbed by this; the way that it seems that they just can't rest until all neighborhoods are identical and safe for their expensive open-toed shoes to walk on. Yuppies don't seem to like anything daring or different. They like "safe" and "clean" and "the same." One earring in each ear. Hair, trimmed every six weeks, with highlights and/or lowlights. Conservative, non-wrinkled, color-coordinated, accessorized outfits. Non-fat everything. Handbags, not backpacks. No sneakers. No denim. That's just how to identify them by sight. With their conservative outfits come conservative, superior attitudes that are also all too easy to recognize. Now, I don't mind yuppies cavorting around in their "beer gardens" and their see-and-be-seen outdoor dining venues in the Marina, as long as they stay there. Why do they insist on coming to my ratty, grungy neighborhood all dressed up for a night of "slumming it?" And when they do come, why do they insist on still playing by their rules? Walking in as if they own the place, shoving, screeching, and dispensing disparaging glances, all they offer is a big, fat bad attitude towards all of the regular neighborhood people. They have certainly made me feel uncomfortable when I have mistakenly crossed the border into their squeaky-clean, lily-white zone; so why must they make me feel the same way when they come into my neighborhood? For some reason I tend to be more annoyed with female yuppies. The males are generally just loud, ex-fraternity members with pretty women and good hair days abounding. So, why can't I stand thee? Let me count the ways. Your long and delicate nails render you virtually helpless, leaving you to just sit there, fluttering and twittering. Your use of the internet and/or computer is limited to forwarding chain letters ("that really work!") and jokes to all of your friends who never seem to tire of this stupidity. Your idea of women's sports involves accompanying your boyfriend to a sporting event, usually football or baseball, because boxing is just "too violent." Because you treat everything I do as either a circus-freak-type novelty that you think is almost cool ("if you like that sort of thing") or a character flaw (examples of which are boxing, tongue-piercing, tattooing, and wearing "clunky" shoes.) Because you hold up the line wherever you are due to you special orders ("no mayo, no onions, no sprouts, just a little bit of the Dijon mustard, lightly toasted, only one slice of cheese sliced diagonally, nonfat, decaf, no-foam, extra-hot with a twist of lemon.") Because you think you have the right of way on the sidewalk, getting onto the elevator, and getting that taxicab before I do just because your outfit is so impeccably matched and your hair is super glossy. Because if you can't find a legal parking spot you just pull up onto the sidewalk and block the doors and driveways of residents and make us call the Department of Public Transit on your asses. Because you drink lite/decaf/diet/non-fat everything because god forbid you gain a pound or two and can't fit into your couture anymore and your giant diamond engagement ring (which you can't do anything even remotely physical while wearing anyway) gets stuck on your fat sausagey finger. Why do the people from my neighborhood chastise the yuppies when they drive their expensive cars to our neighborhoods and park on our sidewalks, blocking our doors and driveways because either they think they can get away with it or are too sheltered and clueless to not realize that they won't? Why do we say the word "yuppie" in that certain tone of voice when they prance into our local (dive-y) bar wearing their best $400 outfits and not even having a clue what the bar serves, only that they heard it was "cool" from some pretentious yuppie guidebook? Because they just won't leave us alone. They just won't let us be us in peace. I just hope they don't venture into the Toronado bathroom wearing those expensive open-toed shoes. It gets pretty raunchy in there.
| Yeah. I'm young. I live in an urban setting. I am a white collar worker, which I guess makes me a professional. But, in NO WAY am I a Yuppie. Yuppies, my bile rises just thinking about them… but really, why should I hate the Yuppies so? Let's take a quick expedition to the Marina, San Francisco's Yuppie Habitat. If you're quiet, and promise not to feed the animals, you can come along too. Chapter One: In Preparation
In preparation for our trip to The Marina, you need to be outfitted in the Yuppie camoflague. Guys: don your requisite khakis and tucked in polo-shirt (with a white tee-shirt under it). Girls: put on a pair of black or blue leggings, an oversized grey college sweatshirt and a white sports bra… oh yeah, make sure you pull your foot-long bleached blonde ponytail through your baseball cap. Since your carry-on baggage is limited to a fanny pack or a small black backpack, women can only carry: lipstick, a condom, your ID, and a gold or platinum card. Men, you get your wallet and keys. Jewelry needs to be gold. Men, your watches need to be big and silver; women, small and leather strapped. Oh, and don't forget your Ray Ban Sunglasses. Chapter Two: Their Habitat
Tread carefully if you want to spot the Yuppies at their watering holes. Usually, they can be spotted in single-sex packs, in groups of two or three. During the day, the women can be spotted at Starbucks, ordering No-Fat, No-Foam, decaf Double Lattes. During the day, the men can usually be spotted on a stretch of green, playing touch football or soccer.
Yuppies don't tend to leave the comfort of their habitat, only venturing away from their precious Starbucks and Noah's Bagels if they're on their way to Tahoe, or to Carmel. Chapter Three: Yuppies at Night
At night, the Yuppies go into their mating rituals. The women dress up in short black dresses and black high heels. The men wear jeans that accentuate their "packages" and tight tee-shirts advertising bad corporate beer or a local intramural sports team. When two Yuppie women get together, they screech in a primitive greeting ritual. Men tend to slap each other on the back.
They tend to drink "light" beers (Amstel Light, Corona Light, Bud Light). If they move up to hard liquor, they stick with the colorless drinks like Gin or Vodka and Tonic. Sometimes, they'll order a martini. Chapter Four: Breeding Habits
Yuppies tend to copulate on a regular schedule. As observed on many occasions, they go to a "pick up bar" like the Savoy Tivoli or places with witty names like Johnny Love's. Yuppies only become promiscuous after consumption of large amounts of alcohol, but once they get a few drinks into them, their normal behavior patterns get worse. The men become belligerent. The women get flirtatious. When a breeding pair of Yuppies meet, they quickly dispense with the formalities, have a drink, and grab a taxi back to their Union Street flat and commence with the foreplay. Though this researcher has never observed the so-called "Yuppie Love" he has heard the sordid tales. It normally occurs quickly, might involve the female performing fellatio, and most likely a fast orgasm for the man, leaving the woman frustrated. Chapter Five: The Yuppie Danger
If you spot a single Yuppie in your neighborhood, get rid of them quickly, for he or she is probably an advance scouting party.
Yuppies are the great homogenizers of our nation. Where they go, Starbucks, The Gap, Jamba Juice (or some local juice smoothie chain), and bars that serve Amstel Light are sure to quickly follow. A number of San Francisco's great neighborhoods have ended up like the Marina, and my neighborhood seems prime for the Yuppie Invasion. Chapter Six: The Conclusion
So, how do you protect your neighborhood from the Yuppie Menace? First, never consider a Yuppie to be harmless. Don't make them feel comfortable, and don't coddle them. If they order a Bud Lite in your presence, mock them. Make them feel uncomfortable. Tell the Yuppie women that they have thick thighs. Mock Michael Bolton and Kenny G. If they ask where the closest Starbucks is, tell them that it's two blocks down near the corner of "Mug Whitey and Kill Whitey (an actual term used by a comedian when asked to describe the Lower Haight)" or even better, just tell them to get bent. Yuppies. Just say no. |
