To the Ciy People.

For the "City People", Citiots", and people whose homes are in New Jersey, Manhattan, Connecticut, ect, ect.. Who either rent or bought a "second home" out here in what you call "The Hamptons.":

You are not special.

Nothing in the world possibly makes you more important than the hobo on the street you would not give your 65 cents to as you made your way to the Jitney for a weekend in "The Hamptons."

You could own a "second home" here for 50 years... it still does not make you a local.

Yeah, we may seem "poor" in your eyes when you come out for your happy little weekend getaway.. clogging up our town. Sure, many of us might make money by ripping you all off (Apparently, 99 percent of you did NOT get rich with your brains.)

Well, we may be poor, but damnit, this place would not exist if it wasn't for us. Our great grandfathers shed blood making this town, and we will be damned if you take that for granted.

You wanna cross a street? Sure.. but use a damn crosswalk.

Going for a bike ride? Have at it.. but stay the hell out of our way. If we hit you it isn't going to be out fault.

Want to go to a restuarant for dinner? Go ahead, but be nice to your server, unless you want to spend between 50-500 dollars on food covered in spit.

We are not "Rednecks" or "White Trash". We are not here for you to take advantage of us, and to be mean and nasty to us. If you want servants, go hire one. Bonackers have too much pride. Over the past 370 years we have shed too much blood, sweat and tears to make this place exist for you people to shit on us every summer. We see you as nothing but annual parasites, sucking the life and soul out of all of us.

Next time you come out here, take a good look at your maid, and your driver, and the guy you bought your fish from, and your server at a restuarant. Ask yourself 'What is so different between them and us?"... the answer will be nothing.

Nothing is different between us. The only difference is you people were lucky to come into money. We work 10000000 times harder than you have ever worked, but you guys were just lucky enough to find a job that pays you a million dollars for being lazy. None of you know what work really is. None of you have cut off a finger, or broken a bone, or died doing what you do.

Once apon a time this was a beautiful, quiet, close knit fishing town. We all looked out for each other, cared for each other so much we'd take the shirt off of our back for a neighbor in need, and no one ever, ever worried about money. Too many things in Life were more important than shiny toys and what "So-and so" thinks of you. And then you infested our home like expensive cockroaches and destroyed it all. You gave us our version of Armageddon.

This Town was at it's best over 100 years ago. Now, thanks to you, it's a dump. You have made our town so bad, our kids have no idea what they can grow up into. We have no idea if our own, dear children can even have a future here at all.

So what now? Are you all proud of yourselves? You absolutely destroyed our world with your horrible personas, and cars, and attitudes, and big ugly mansions that you barely even use. You've driven the price to live up so badly a thousand people can barely survive even though we've been here hundreds of years and do not know anything else. And you've never actually done anything productive with your lives, but hey, you have money, so Life MUST be good, right?

Wrong.

At least we know what Life is about. Life is Friends, Family, and Love. Not Swift Cars, Mansions, and Toys. Half of me is so angry at you all, for the pain you have caused myself, and my husband, and children, and father and grandfathers, for the blood you have shed for your spoilage and convenience... but the other half just pities you. I pity the fact that none of you know what true, genuine Love is, or how to love the "little" things. You have no "real" friends.. just the ones you paid for.

By the time you know what Life is you'll be on your deathbed, and feeling regretful for wasting it all away.

And to be honest, after all of the horrible things you've done to us, I won't be sure if I will feel genuinely sorry for you or not.