As our mini-van shuttle quite literally zoomed away from LGA, I found myself practicing my New Yorker façade. Brow furrowed and avoiding eye contact, I reminded myself not to let an accidental “y’all” slip out. But as we neared our hotel on Times Square and our girlish squeals of excitement grew in intensity, we noticed our driver was laughing at us; not in a condescending way, just pure amusement at the ooh’s and ah’s of tourists viewing the Big Apple for the first time. His snickers continued as he marked the first of many New York experiences that shattered the mold of grumpy cab drivers, rude residents and an overall detest of tourists.

However.

I must follow that by saying not all NYC stereotypes are fictional. I do not think our cab drivers could differentiate the gas pedal from the brake and I’m fairly certain that the yellow line is not meant to be crossed. Sprawling landscapes of the city from bridges made the whiplash slightly more worth it.

Another instance proving the genuine kindness of locals was one of the multiple times we found ourselves befuddled by the subway system. A street-corner hawker flinging out flyers saw us in our confusion and immediately offered help as to which subway entrance we were supposed to take to get to the dock for Ellis Island. He actually ended up being wrong and a passing woman corrected his directions, but he was nevertheless accommodating.

A few days later, we made our way on foot to the 9-11 Memorial and Museum. While waiting for a fire truck to back into the station, a fireman who was directing the vehicle spoke with us and found out we were from Texas. After speaking with part of our group for a few minutes about the first responders and showing us a commemorative mural around the corner, he sent us in the right direction with a farewell of “Thank you for producing Ron Paul!”

The security guard working the check-in desk of the New York Times spoke with us briefly after our tour. He seemed sincerely curious about where we were from and why we were visiting. After hearing we were journalism students, he ran to the storage basement and brought us back New York Times branded mementoes.

While there is still a definite difference between the cordial, familiar Texas hospitality and the more hurried help of the East Coast, New York locals’ willingness to help us with subway directions and maneuvering the concrete jungle made our trip a much more pleasurable experience and helped us “fuhget abowdit.”