So I’m Mary Lane and I call myself a New York cliché. Why? The whole struggling actor, big dreams thing kinda demanded a self deprecating label, as far as I was concerned. I’ve always enjoyed poking fun at stereotypes. Plus, now when I’m sucking down iced coffee, spilling in on my all black ensemble as I run down 5th Avenue, late to work because the MTA sucks – at least I can smile through the stress and think “Hey, I’m on brand!”

But here’s the confession time. There are plenty of ways I am NOT ON BRAND AT ALL. GASP – I KNOW. These are my New York Cliché DEFYING confessions!

I think pastrami sandwiches are overwhelming and just not that great.

I remember getting one for the first time, on a date at the iconic Carnegie Deli with my very first New York boyfriend. It arrived on the table and I stared at the 2 inches of meat between the sliced bread. This was what all the fuss was about? Where were the vegetable?? I’m supposed to get excited about a sandwich where the bread isn’t toasted and there are no tomatoes!? How come no one warned me!!!? When the bill came, I saw that I’d paid $16 dollars for a fucking sandwich. I have never eaten another. Katz’ Deli is about as New York cliché as it gets, and I just can’t bring myself to go and face another meat monstrosity sandwich!

I almost never order take out.

New York is known as a place where you can get anything delivered, any hour day or night. I almost never take advantage of this. Maybe it’s because I grew up in a home where we never, ever, not-even-once ordered pizza? Maybe it’s because I like walking down the street the store, even when it’s blizzarding outside? Maybe it’s because I’m too cheap, and too loyal to Trader Joe’s?

I HAVE BASICALLY ZERO restaurant recommendations.

BIG CONFESSION: I’m just not a foodie. I know everyone is obsessed with food, that it’s one of the #1 reasons people visit NYC, and that food even unities us as humans! But…it just doesn’t excite me like it seems to thrill all y’all! Maybe I have defective taste buds! You’re going to hate me for saying this, but I’m pretty damn happy just making a giant salad at home. (Yes, I’m a freak who loves salads and have since I was a little kid.) My poor boyfriend took me on a fancy Valentine’s Day date to a Michelin star restaurant thinking me, the New York Cliché, would be delighted. The dinner was fine, but…kinda snooty. Plus it was hard not to think about how we could have gone to Florida for the weekend with that money instead of just eating one meal! He’ll never take me somewhere nice again- hooray!

I still accidentally take the express train, when I mean to take the local.

I’ve lived here for 10 years, and I STILL fuck up with public transportation sometimes! Since I moved to Queens a month ago, I’ve accidentally taken the express 7 when I needed the local THREE whole times! Sure, my routine has changed, but it shouldn’t make me this bad at taking the subway!