I love driving in Manhattan. I know what you’re thinking: this guy is crazy. (Or possibly: This looks long. Is there a video?) But you probably already knew I was crazy after I admitted last week to owning an E63 AMG wagon, which is like flushing money down a 507-horsepower toilet with seven seats.

But I’m not crazy: I just love the real-life video game that is Manhattan driving. Allow me to explain.

One reason it’s so much fun to drive in Manhattan is traffic enforcement. In short, there isn’t any. Whenever you get pulled over in your suburb for doing 41 in a 35, you have to restrain yourself from screaming at the officer: “Don’t you have anything BETTER to do?!” In Manhattan, they do. They have robberies to solve, murderers to catch, and streets to shut down for Law & Order filming.

Other road users also make Manhattan driving enjoyable. Taxi drivers, for example, would be easily identifiable simply based on their driving style even if they weren’t confined to bright yellow cars.

I’ve learned there are four important tenets of cab driving in New York. Most importantly, you must have loud conversations over an ear-mounted Bluetooth in a third-world accent that would probably earn an intrepid fondling from the TSA. Two, drive fast. Three, don’t signal. And four, constantly demonstrate to whoever is in front of you that your horn is working, regardless of whether it’s a police car, a hot dog vendor, or an elderly, disabled woman crossing the street on a walk sign. And don’t worry about offending: all three will gladly return your honk with a middle finger.

Also interesting are the MTA bus drivers. They enter traffic at random intervals, typically because their mirrors were taken off years earlier by a speeding bicycle messenger. Speaking of bicycle messengers, these are Manhattan’s fastest drivers, particularly because they're not slowed down by little things like traffic lights, and pedestrians, and collisions with garbage trucks. And a shout-out to black cabs, or “car services,” whose dark-colored Lincolns offer a touch more class as the drivers yell “fuck you!” to tourists who commit sins like asking for directions.

But there’s one group that enhances driving in Manhattan more than all of the others: the SUV from the suburbs. They’re all the same: a late-model MDX with an obscenely ugly “bumper guard” and an obtrusive license plate frame from the Acura dealer in Syosset. They’re often driven by women disoriented by the frenetic pace of the cab drivers and bicycle messengers. And they’re almost always going slower than everything in sight.

Finding an SUV from the suburbs is great because it gives you confidence. You can’t faze the cabbies or the car services. But you can speed by the suburb-dwelling SUV, honking and flexing your Manhattan-driving muscle. And when the suburban moms who drive these SUVs go home to Nassau County, you’ll be the reason they complain to their friends after Pilates about what The City “is becoming.” Now that’s a feather in your cap.

Beyond other drivers and a lack of enforcement, Manhattan also offers no discernible speed limits, which means that everyone assigns their own - and the general consensus appears to be “as fast as possible.” This is especially true for the West Side Highway and FDR Drive, which can only be described as outright free-for-alls designed to test the limits of aging Crown Victorias.

Other rules are similarly nonexistent. Parking is strictly enforced, though large vans and trucks stop anywhere at any time, constantly turning the roads into an obstacle course. And while there are lanes, signaling when you change between them is something they only do in Connecticut.

Unfortunately for those of us that love driving in Manhattan - a small group that includes, well, me - the city is starting to put a stop to some of the things that make it so fun. The closure of Times Square means you can no longer do high-speed runs down the length of Broadway. Not that you would. Honking for no reason is now illegal, although this is enforced with the same fervor as pickpocketing. (“Tough luck, lady. Welcome to the big city.”) And Mayor Bloomberg continues to hire more police officers, meaning they can’t all be roping off streets for Law & Order, and some are actually out enforcing traffic laws.

But until they pry the keys out of my hands - or kick the cars out of Manhattan - I’ll always love driving there. You can call me crazy, but you’ll have to catch me first.