What do I hate? The people who drive into our neighborhood from places far away, places with exotic names like New Prague, Minnetrista, and Blaine. As they park, they feel free to comment loudly on the architecture of our home, or of how wild (meaning scary) it would be to live in Uptown (yeah, living within a short walk of great restaurants, parks, and lakes totally sucks). Also, they like to wonder, again, loudly, "I wonder how much they paid for this place? They don't even have a yard. Hell, we got almost an acre and a four car garage up in Rusty Meadows, and we only paid $79,500."
Then they go see the "art," preferably walking four abreast against the tide of traffic, stopping without warning to exclaim, "Isn't that fun!" No, they are not referring to sex, or any activity that could be legitimately deemed fun, but at a black porcelain platter, inscribed in turquoise and peach with leaping dolphins. Also there are some "fun" quilted jackets and colorful nature photography. And the Andersen Windows booth. And mini donuts.
Do not invite me to go with you to the uptown art fair. I will say no, and even if I said yes, neither of us would have a very good time.