1. You’re not from “Los Angeles.
” We’ve got a lot of pride in our city, but it’s second to a more localized loyalty. A team prefixed by Los Angeles wins a championship, sure, the whole town riots as one. But if somebody sits down in a bar next to a guy born and raised in LA and asks where he’s from, that guy isn’t going to say he’s from Los Angeles. That guy is from Santa Monica. Or Culver City, or West Hollywood, or any other individual city that makes up the megalopolis that is LA.
It’s not that we hate each other (although there’s a fair amount of snobbery that goes on). It’s just that Los Angeles as a city is so diverse that each neighborhood/city has turned into a niche, sheltering the inhabitants from the horrors of having to adapt to other people. It’s like the nation-states of Ancient Greece, with better hot dogs and worse drivers. America may be a melting pot, but Los Angeles is a box of chocolates, and the caramel doesn’t like being called the coconut.
Ignore this fact and you risk — shudder — being called a tourist. Or worse — a transplant.