You know you're a Detroiter when... *********************************** You put a lawn chair in the street to protect your parking spot. You look forward to going over the I-75 industrial brigde and seeing the downtown city lights. You think sunlight reflection off broken glass is pretty. Someone makes nasty crack about Detroit and you want to slug them. You bleed a little everytime you hear someone say something negative about Detroit. You meet your lawyer at Lafayette Coney Island. Your idea of down South is Toledo. It is 90 percent chance that you're an Immigrant or African-American. You're jelous of Chicago. You don't live in Detroit but insted in suburbs but you're there seven days a week. The signs say "construction," the traffic is down to one lane and there are no workers in sight. You can pronounce and spell : Gratiot," "Cadieux," "Dequindre" and "Lahser." Your old car seats have become living room furniture. If it's less than 10 blocks away, you drive anyway. You think burned-out buildings are beautiful. You ask for pop, not soda. You resent people who are scared to cross Eight Mile (either way). You have a position on the east side/west side debate. People ask if it's safe to visit you. Jokes about Detroit aren't funny anymore. The broken windows stop amazing you. The bad smell and the dead bodies in the street don't bother you anymore. You run red lights in front of cops. You own a Navigator and still live with Mom. You live in a gang territory and you still don't know. The "Ghetto" is your home and "Gangs" are your family. You have a taste for coney dogs. You can not drive around city without protection. You can dodge potholes without dropping the cell phone. You get excited about every new store or business. You can't get to sleep without the sound of sirens. You hate the city, but you'll kick the ass of anyone who disses it. You just can't move away. You love Vernor's and Better Made Chips You refer to the city as "the D" or " Murder Capital." You use your hand to show people where you live. You swim at Belle Isle beach. You call McNichols "6 Mile." It seem fair enough to see somebody strapped with a gun. You know the given names of all the expressways. You know Non-Detroiters fear you. People get scared when you say you're from here. You have a sharp-ass SUV and a ****ed-up house. You go on a Florida vacation and still return home. You hate Detroit and in the same time you're proud. You tell people you're from Detroit when you live in the suburbs. A six-street intersection with a Michigan turn seems logical. You think Devil's Night is celebrated anywhere.