Other states get red hearts. New Jersey gets a green one, and honestly, that tracks. Green like the Garden State hype that nobody believes until they taste a late summer tomato. Green like the pines, the marsh, and whatever is happening in the water off exit who-knows-what. Green like the face of every out-of-state visitor who tried the local breakfast meat at 2am after a night they do not remember.
It is also the color of envy, which is exactly what everybody else is feeling. They have one diner. We have four hundred, all open, all serving disco fries to people who have no business being awake. We pump nothing ourselves and we are thrilled about it.
Cut soft, built for real life, and comfortable enough to wear from the boardwalk to the bagel line to your cousin's backyard argument about which exit is best. Holds its shape, holds its color, and survives the wash like a true local survives the parkway in July.
