You're a douche. You drive a leased German car you can't afford, because it's certainly not a Volkswagen. Your hair has more product than Costco. You constantly post about your models-and-bottles nightclub exploits on Facebook.
There are a lot of you in L.A. And here's where you live:Little Joy bar, lamenting about how much cooler "the Eastside" used to be before all these new people showed up.
North of Montana. Santa Monica's toniest neighborhood, located, as its name would suggest, north of Montana Avenue, is douchy only for its genuine display of wealth. It is the home of those people who really can afford bottle service and German cars. And it's those douches we hate the most. Just recall last year's story of a North of Montana CEO who had not only $10 million worth of precious art stolen (a Jasper Johns and more) but also lost high-end watches (a Patek Philippe, a Lange & Söhne and a Breitling) and a 2010 Porsche Carrera 4S. (He got most of it back.) Douche! (No, really, we're jealous.)
Listen downtowners, we're glad you found your place in the sun, but stop bragging about how cool it is. It still smells like downtown. And if you claim you're not afraid to walk around after midnight, you're lying.
See also: The Six Types of Transplants Ruining L.A.
Actually, douche is an upgrade for the kind of neon-beachwear-sporting meathead-and-Barbie couples who spit beer in the South Bay night scene. Fifty-year-old, orange-tanned guys with frosted-blonde hair? You'll find them here.
Fine, you say, you'll retire to Manhattan Beach, where a decent house costs a couple mil. That'll keep the douches at bay. Nope. That's still the land of the brown-fearing, Whole Foods-embracing, plastic-surgery-having real housewife. It's what Beverly Hills used to be before the Iranians took over and classed the place up.
Last but not least ...