Except for the proprietor of a local diner who calls absolutely everyone 'bub' -- from the meanest looking unshaven slob, to the most gorgeous fashion plate in a spandex skirt -- I have never heard anyone use the word who wasn't playing him on TV. The truth of New York is in this respect less grim than the rumor, and you are far more likely to have a Sikh drive you to Madison Garden when you wanted the Square than to find a potato knish behind the wheel. Speaking of which, and on another subject entirely, why oh why is the truth -- famously stranger far than fiction -- in truth so often only just what you'd expect?
