Attack of the Hipster

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First of all, this blog has turned us into monsters. 

We no longer live normal lives. We view our dates as "case-studies" to be examined later under the blog, scribble down conversations between girls like mad, and relish when a boy does something ridiculous because we just look at each other and say, "blog it." 


You are welcome for sacrificing our personal lives for the sake of strengthening the HOOD. 

Anyways...

Below is a conversation we recorded recently at a girls night. Mind you, our storyteller U.K. did incredibly funny voices when re-capping her awkward encounter. We will try and do it justice.

The characters:

U.K: A confident, savvy Spinster who has been around the block.
Boy: A radical hipster who has lost sight of reality in his quest to be unique, vintage and going against the current.

{Boy comes and sits down next to U.K. exchanges very little small talk before getting down to the nitty-gritty.}

Boy: What is your passion?

U.K: What?

Boy: Your passion. What is it?

U.K: Um, I don't know...What's your passion?

Boy: People. People are my passion. I love observing people. You can tell a lot about people by just watching them. In fact, I've been observing you all night."

U.K: K, what do you know about me?

{Boy is unable to say anything specific about her so he changes the subject}

Boy: Do you like music?

U.K: Yeah. Do you like music?

Boy: My life is music. Do you know...

{Goes on to name about 8 hipster indie-bands in a row without taking a breath}

U.K: Nope. Don't know any of those. 

{Boy not phased that he is not making a connection but rather proud of himself for knowing so many hipster bands}

U.K: So what else do you do?

Boy: What do you mean?

U.K: Do you go to school?

Boy: No.

U.K: Do you have a job?

Boy: No.

U.K: What do you do then?!

Boy: I LISTEN TO MUSIC!

{Boy slightly concerned that he had not made it apparent enough that his life=indie music. Boy goes back to how he is people-saavy.}

Boy: You know, when I'm around different people I just change who I am. I kind of morph into who I think they would like me to be.

U.K: So you have no personality?

Boy: Are you okay with that?

{Whoa. Girl gett’in sassy and hipster still not understanding the irony.)

Later events include him having a slight panic attack when someone was taking his picture because he is going through a "non-picture taking" phase and fail after fail of picking up cues that U.K. wasn't his hipster bride. Finally, he stood up to leave but before walking away carefully massaged the cushion of the couch where he had been sitting.

Boy: I just can't stand to see my bum mark. You know like when you're sitting on grass and your bum leaves a mark? I just think, "Oh my gosh. I'm so fat."

The End.

Gertrude and Charlotte