Somehow, you've ended up in Winnipeg. Chances are you don't know much about the city other than that it's somewhere between Saskatchewan and Ontario and we grow a lot of wheat (and really great hockey players) here.

Winnipeggers are tough but friendly. We're used to harsh winters and hot summers. We grew up with Neil Young and The Guess Who. And we come with our own unique set of traditions and quirks that you'll be forced to learn soon enough (or else we'll ship you off to Brandon). As a Winnipegger since birth, I'm here to warn you of a few things that'll definitely happen to you once you move to Winnipeg— things they tend to leave out of the travel guides.

You will, at some point, scrape your windshield with a credit card.

Hey, it works way better than any ice scraper from Canadian Tire.


You’ll hardly be fazed by minus thirty temperatures.

*Shrugs* Could be minus forty (and it definitely has been).


You will slip and fall while crossing Portage Ave during the lunch rush.

Any fashion sense and inner pride will go out the window, once winter comes. Sorels and sore butts, it is.


Choosing a winter parka will become VERY important.

“Does this bulky, down-filled, floor length parka make me look fat?"


You’ll become a Jets fan.

You always swore you’d stay true to your hometown… but the atmosphere at the MTS Centre is seriously electric, especially when everyone’s yelling ‘TRUE NORTH’ during the national anthem.


You’ll get confused by the one-way directions on Donald-Garry-Fort-Smith streets.

“Oh, so that’s why everyone was honking".


You’ll realize everyone here, is from here.

And they’ll be wondering why you moved here.


Someone you know will have a social.

Wedding, birthday, fundraiser, whatever. They WILL rent out a community club gymnasium and there WILL be a sandwich spread (and you WILL be meat shouldered).


Your already late Winnipeg Transit bus, will just decide not to show up.

And the next one won’t either.

You’ll go to Countryfest in Dauphin.

And you’ll wake up in a broken tent with a sprained ankle wearing some dude’s cowboy hat on day two.

You’ll have to wear a parka under your Halloween costume.

*Sigh* Not-so-sexy nurse, after all.


When out on Osborne, you will run into people you don’t want to see.

Mathematically speaking, there are 660,000 people living in Winnipeg, and every single one of them seems to flock to The Toad/ Upstairs in the Village /Little Pizza Heaven on a Friday night. You will definitely see your ex-boyfriend. And your twelfth-grade history teacher. And that girl you puked on in a cab that one time.

You’ll eat a Jeanne’s Bakery log cake at somebody’s birthday party.

And you'll wonder what exactly is so great about it anyway (before eating your third slice).

You will spend countless nights after the club at A Little Pizza Heaven.

And you’ll settle for no less than four warm, greasy slices of tomato-feta.

You’ll go to a Bombers' game solely for the Rum Hut.

And maybe make a few beer snakes while you’re there.


You’ll go to a Goldeyes' game for the Angry Fish pilsner.

You don’t even understand the rules of baseball.


Dancing Gabe will become a living legend to you.

At first, you think he's just a middle-aged man who loves to high-five and dance ridiculously at sports games... then you realize that he's actually a local hero.


You’ll take the typical Winnipegger photos.

Your first goog of the season at BDI, the girls' group photo before a Commerce social, the sneaky bathing suit selfie at Thermea...


Your idea of a weekend getaway will be to Fargo, North Dakota.

The only place with less happening than Winnipeg.

You won’t have a rivalry with the other major city in your province.

Brandon is like a little brother to us. Who happens to be really good at hockey.

You’ll never let the world forget that we produced Nia Vardalos.

"My Big Fat Greek Wedding was the very film that defined our generation!"

Everybody you know plays/played hockey.

And behind them is a hockey mom who once made the ref cry.


A big day out at the beach means Bird’s Hill Park.

Obviously, Grand Beach is nicer, it’s just...so….far.

You’ll find yourself drinking a Slurpee at 8 a.m.

We didn’t get crowned the Slurpee Capital of the World for 16 years running from drinking water, son.

You’ll hit a pothole on St. James Street and get really, really pissed.

Until a few seconds later when you hit another one on Empress.

You’ll have a wild night at District Stop, The Toad, Cowboys or Kingshead that you won’t remember.

“Did I puke on some girl in a cab?"

You’ll think twice about going to Polo Park around Christmastime.

So. Many. People.

You will be asked to play in a bonspiel with someone’s uncle’s curling team.

Afterward, there will be pizza and beer. Make sure you "hurry! hard!" first.
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