Pittsburgh vs. Philadelphia: A Yinzer Visits the "City of Brotherly Love"

It is often said that an imaginary line runs from north to south, cutting the state of Pennsylvania into two very different halves.

Those who fall on the western side of this invisible boundary often do not have much of an affection for anything, or anyone, that comes from the opposite side.

The same can generally be said for the easterners.

If you’re feeling adventurous, visit the city of Pittsburgh, or one of its nearby western Pennsylvanian towns, then head east on Interstate 80 toward the erroneous metropolis of the Commonwealth, more commonly referred to as Philadelphia.

What you will experience in each location is likely to contrast the other very strongly.

As a native western Pennsylvanian, there are certain things that you take particular pride in.

You likely put Heinz ketchup on everything you eat (if for no other reason than that you have actually seen the relative location of its invention); are fond of the idea of putting french fries, coleslaw, and hot sauce on a variety of sandwiches; commonly utter the word “yinz” when referring to a group of peers and grin as a new acquaintance labors over the definition of this indigenous jargon; and your blood is often tainted with the colors of black and gold.

You also feel a certain comfort in your own community, whether it results from a simple “good morning” offered to you by the cashier at the grocery store, or an unsuspected wave from a complete stranger as you politely allow them to pull in front of you at the McDonald’s drive-thru.

You, in turn, find yourself offering courteous smiles to complete strangers on the sidewalks or casually chatting about Sidney Crosby’s latest overtime heroics to the guy at the next gas pump.

Then, for whatever reason, you decide to visit your sister city to the east, Philadelphia.

Upon arriving in the “City of Brotherly Love” for the first time, you can’t help but be a little anxious to experience the new culture of a previously unexplored territory.

You want to take in all the sights from the Liberty Bell to Independence Hall, you want to meet new people, try new foods, and maybe even learn a thing or two.

So, you head into the nearest Subway to ask a few quick questions about the best way to get around the city and grab something quick to eat.

You lock eyes with the Subway employee, who looks like he hasn’t fully recovered from a long night, but he glances away before you can open your mouth.

You take your place at the end of the four-person line and decide to start some small talk with one of the people ahead of you.

Puzzled by the fact that no one seemed to even notice you walking past them, you wonder if you should attempt to interrupt what seem to be very involved thought processes occurring in the minds of your fellow sandwich seekers.

You decide against speaking out, and wait until it’s your turn to order something.

“Yeah, what’ll it be?” the employee asks.

You tell him you are visiting the city for the first time and you are wondering what the best method of public transportation is.

You also attempt to throw in something about sightseeing, but by this time, his eyes have already shifted to the back of the line.

“Yeah, uh, you gonna order or what?” he replies.

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