"Come on Becky, let's move!"
"Becky? You know her?"
"No, but she's a Becky."
We were in the car, Mark was driving, and that was the first time I heard of Becky. Mark uses that term/name all the time. It's kind of racist, but not in a bad way. It's what Mark calls a young, well dressed, fit, preferably blonde, and usually white woman. He doesn't dislike Becky. She is the sign of a nice neighborhood, and if Becky is seen jogging, pushing a stroller, or walking a well behaved dog, Mark knows the place is either very nice, or up and coming. The thing is, Becky doesn't have to meet all the criteria. We'll be driving along and Mark will point out a Burqua Becky or Black Becky. Any young woman can aspire to be Becky. Just last night on our way to a little neighborhood bar/seafood/Thai restaurant, Mark pointed out Mexican Becky. That is a good thing. The more Beckys we see in our neighborhood, the more Mark feels at home. There is no such thing as a gang banger Becky, or a hillbilly Becky. Even if you clean them up, the tattoos will still be there.
So anyway, that is how it's done. That is how Mark rates neighborhoods. Lincoln Park neighborhood, ten Beckys. Andersonville neighborhood, probably eight or nine Beckys. Our little neighborhood, we're around five Beckys but we're on the cusp of Beckydom. There is another way to rate a neighborhood, and we use that system too. It's called Gay Brad. If there are more than two gay men named Brad within one square block, the area is up and coming.