Covid-19 feels like it’s come to an end, at least the hysteria of it all anyway, and without a doubt, it has fundamentally changed the Hamptons. Not only has every New Yorker that can make $500k a year on Zoom has bought or is currently stalking real estate out here, but the dynamics of who is local is quickly changing.
I’m approaching 40 years old, and I’m a Hamptons local. I’m an OG of East Hampton, my grandparents were OGs of Montauk, and I’m building my current family in Southampton. To me, local has always meant year-round people. Or in other words, NOT city people. Locals are landscapers, they are teachers, they are painters, they are crazy artists, they are personal trainers whose father works as a town attorney, they are real estate agents and insurance salesmen. That’s a local.
Or so I thought.
I drop my daughter off two days a week at the Southampton Day Care Center and arrive there at 8:30am sharp with the other locals. Some show up in pick-up trucks, others show up in Jeeps or Toyota Rav-4s, and every now and then you see a Mercedes Benz. There is this awkward moment where you drop off the kid and you are standing around with other tired, miserable parents who just want to get the hell out of there and get to work. You give a little head nod, usually, they are wearing a shirt that says, “Something Landscaping” or they are wearing a jacket that says, “Something Construction Management.”
But these days, the parents that I normally give a little head nod to are rocking fleece jackets that say Google on them.
“You work at Google?”
“Yes, we live out here full time now. We work from home, we love it here.”
“That really is amazing to me. I’m glad you’re here. Let me know if you need anything,” and I handed them my card.
“Have a great day.”
“So, when I think about it, you guys are local. Like you’re a local.”
“Yep, we’re locals for sure.”
The world can change on a dime.
