"Boovies. From Buena Vista." I smile as I chew my ice chips. Awful habit. I'm going to kill my enamel if I keep it up.
"But... but you're one yourself!" His reaction, as best I can gauge, would be described as stunned.
"I am not!" Complete indignation.
"You're wearing pearls right now." Smugly.
I roll my eyes. "So is Barbara Bush, I guarantee you, but that doesn't make her a Boovie. Plus, I don't technically live in Buena Vista. Ask a Boovie." I smile, then continue picking at my lunch. "I might blog it, you know."
"You should." Sheer amusement now.
A person, usually a woman, who can answer yes to EACH of the following three questions:
1. Do you reside in BV?
2. Do you declare to have no interest in living in any other neighborhood in the city forever and ever, as long as both BV and you shall live?
3. Do you feel negatively toward those people who live just outside true BV, as you define it, who refer to their homes as being in BV?
Bonus, optional questions
4. Can you name each house on Stratford, "good" Stratford that is, by family?
5. Have you ever wanted to say Buena Vista 27104, much like Beverly Hills 90210?
You see, Boovie isn't just about location. It isn't about what a person wears or looks like, though there are definitely some correlations, especially in Spring/Summer (see Pulitzer, Lilly). Boovie is a mentality, a way of life, that clearly divides the world, or at least the city, into Buena Vista and Not Buena Vista.
This is not new or unique to Winston-Salem, either. Many, many Parisians view France in terms of Paris and The Rest of The Country, Which Shall Be Called Les Provences, All Of It. Almost every native New York City resident I've met has felt that way about NYC, too. Like the world outside the city just hasn't figured out a way to get in yet.
Don't get me wrong; I think Buena Vista, the neighborhood as I loosely understand the boundaries, is marvelous. Its houses are often gracious and sidewalks run rampant. I just don't think Buena Vista's the end-all, be-all of this city. And neither do most of the residents of Buena Vista I've met.
But a few do look down at non-Buena Vistans for being non-Buena Vistans, for not living on the "right" streets and gasp, for not caring. Sadly, those few are very, very vocal about it, which casts an unattractive shadow over the sloping, green lawns, the Magnolia trees, the pottery shard porch floors, and the generous crown mouldings. And those, my friends, are Boovies.