At the risk of offending my friends from Sag Harbor, what is up with those people? Most of the time that I run into someone I know in that village, the first thing they say is, “What are you doing over here?” with the emphasis on “you.”
“I wanted to go to Persan’s for a clam knife,” I protest. They tilt their head ever so slightly, suspicious
It is not that they are insular; those of us who live on the other side of their Maginot Line get invited to their parties, right? But there is a definite reluctance among them to travel over the hump to East Hampton, and, oh my god, if they have to drive to Amagansett, they pack emergency kits with a week’s supplies. The “what are you doing here” business requires deeper analysis, but damned if I can figure out what it comes from.
A friend I asked this week suggested that it might be more frequent in my case because of my association with the East Hampton newspaper. Yet I don’t get the same vibe from people I run into in Bridgehampton — or even Montauk. Yes, Montauk is part of East Hampton Town, but so is half of Sag Harbor. And the Montauk kids I went to school with were absolutely from another planet and waited for the buses to Long Lane in the dark a good part of the year as if lined up at the gates of Hades.
Could be it’s defensiveness. Sag Harbor Main Street has so far dodged the corporatization that sterilized East Hampton Village. Maybe they think we are carrying the contagion with us up Route 114 and it’d be better to keep their distance to avoid breathing in some of that infectious Gucci dust. Hell, I’d want to avoid that, too. But for that, alas, it is too late.