Whether it was Hurricane Irma or Hurricane Andrew, you’ve survived a major storm. You know that when the TV anchor starts hopping hurricane categories, you head straight for Publix and Home Depot to load up on water gallons and plywood before the hordes of people show up and empty out the shelves.
Pastelitos, croquetas, vaca frita, you know the best bakeries and restaurants to satisfy your Cuban food cravings. You’re no stranger to grabbing moros and platanitos at Versailles at midnight, but you know there’s lots of great Cuban food outside of Little Havana.
Memorial Day weekend in South Beach? No, thank you. You’re smart enough to avoid the throngs of people and sweaty chaos on the beach during a holiday.
Ah, traffic. The arch-nemesis of every Miamian. You’ve felt the desperation and blood-boiling road rage of rush hour traffic on the I-95, the Palmetto, or every single highway and street on your commute home. You might have stopped by a McDonald’s for a frappe to cool you down on the road.
You’ve made a dash to Los Perros on those nights when you’ve partied too hard. Nothing satisfies the munchies like a Colombian hotdog with pineapple sauce. (And there are no judgments here because all the customers are just as drunk as you).
You’ve handled bad drivers before. By now you’ve gotten in at least one car accident or hit and run that you’ve probably even developed a third eye to foresee an incoming car from three lanes down with no blinkers driving at 100mph cutting you in line.
You’ve seen one in a canal, while kayaking in Matheson Park or in your friend’s pool after a hurricane – alligators are almost as common as the mosquito here. 13 feet long, lined with spikes and a jaw with 80 teeth? No biggie.
The swamplands of the Everglades National Park in the summer is a sanctuary for mosquitos. You know no mosquito repellant will save you from the bites in this humid air.
Whether it’s the The Raleigh or The Delano, you’ve partied in your share of hotel pools on the beach.
Either one of your friends is a cousin of Shakira’s, or you’ve spotted a few famous celebrities on a night out at LIV.
It’s a ritual here, you’ve done it.
You know people pull out that parka and knee-high boots when it gets chilly in Miami. 60 degrees Fahrenheit—it might as well be snowing—you’ve got a sweater for that time.
Your parents may have dragged you there, but you’ve been on a rollercoaster and eaten elephant ears at Santa’s at some point.
The good old suburbs. You can be a tour guide for the foreigners who don’t get that there’s more to Miami than just Miami Beach.
One time you thought you could get away with being three minutes to your car, only to find out the tow truck was counting on that. You’ve learned never to chance parking in the wrong spot.
If you’ve visited the insane asylum on Krome, then you probably grew up in Miami hearing stories about it. And guess what, that means you know Miami as a native. Congrats, you’re the real deal – now pass the croqueta.