NYC and me

So yesterday, I officially turned into a New Yorker. People can argue that there are a variety of touchstones for marking yourself the stereotypical, hardened, been-there, done-that city chick. For me, it became when I got into a public shouting match with a homeless man. Why would I waste my time doing that, you may ask...good question. Although I've screamed at people in public before, they were usually someone I was dating, usually when I wasn't sober, and usually ended with me storming away in a cab, leaving them on the street corner to mull over their mistakes.

But this was different - I just couldn't put up with this derelict calling me a cunt. We pulled up to my subway stop and when the train did its little jerk, I momentarily lost my balance and brushed against this obviously well-fed, Yankee cap-wearing white man who had just appealed to everyone in my car for some cash & food. So we get to the stop and I literally barely touch him, but still say, "Sorry." He obviously didn't hear me and started spewing, "You fucking bitch! Fucking cunt! Excuse me, hasn't anyone ever told your whore ass to say sorry! Fucking dumb ass bitch!..." etc and proceeds to start to follow me out of the station, screaming the whole way.

It's embarrassing. Plus, I knew he was gonna continue attacking me, so I turn and scream and defend myself, "I did say I'm sorry you fucking asshole!" Snap. Maybe not the smartest thing to scream at the crazy man, but eh, he keeps up with his obscenities, but yeah, doesn't follow me.
Later, I tell my mom the little story and she's horrified: "Ketty, you didn't act like a lady! A lady would have kept walking. You've been in NYC for too long. What would your great-aunt Carolyn think if she heard you?"
Excuse me. Excuse me? What would my Aunt Carolyn think? No, I'm not gonna walk away with my tail between my legs while that guy calls me a cunt. Sometimes you've got to defend yourself, right?