Goddamn Hipsters

I was at the Dodos' show last week, along with Happy Apple and The Savages.  Except for a rather lacklustre opening band, it was a good show, and I'm sure I'll write a blog post about it one of these days.

But this post is not it.

Nope, this post is all about douchey hipsters.  Goddamn annoying-ass hipsters.

The four of us were pretty much the first people at the venue, so we grabbed some nice seats and a table on the balcony, and proceeded to people-watch while having a few drinks.  That was when we saw two hipsters - black-rimmed glasses, flannel, bright converse chuck all-stars, tight black jeans, and all.  One of them even had a bandana around his neck, which basically screamed "look at me, I'm trying too hard"

We watched, quietly amused, as the hipsters got up on our balcony.  The place was empty, so we initially questioned why they would come to where the only other people in the venue were hanging out.  And then it became readily apparent.  One of the Savages raised an eyebrow as the hipsters began to stretch.

Seriously.  They were stretching - their legs, twisting their arms, and going through simple yoga movements that you learn from level one of any wii fit game.  And they were doing this in front of us because, like most hipsters, they won't do anything unless there's an audience.  In their incredibly tiny hipster brains, they don't see a point in doing anything unless others are observing it... as if we would be impressed.  Though, I was just a little impressed - how anyone can stretch in such tight ass pants is a miracle.  Wouldn't that destroy one's testicles?

Oh, yeah, right.

So they carried on their annoying little hipster stretches, while we made fun of them and drank.  Happy Apple and I started stretching too, mimicking their movements, which got the nearby bouncer to break out laughing. 

The hipsters pretended to not hear me when I coughed "douche!" really loudly. But I know they heard me;  they were, after all, putting their feet on our table so they could stretch their calves or some stupid shit.  That's right... their feet.  On our table.  Probably so we could clearly see those snazzy shoes their parents bought them.

But hey, maybe they weren't douchebags, right?  Maybe they just wanted to stretch so they could spend all their time on the dance floor, right?  Maybe I'm just being overly critical? 

I thought all these things.  Until they got down on the dance floor.

Because that's when they began to dance to the canned music (the latest Born Ruffians album, which was considerably better than the opening act).  And they did the hipster dance - bend the knees, don't really move the feet, and flail your arms around while you rotate your torso.  Other people on the dance floor watched, perplexed, and then laughed.  And the nearby bouncer laughed when I shouted out "Wanker!" at the top of my lungs.

"That guy's legs were like non-conformist jell-o," as one observer put it.  "Convulsing in a full body hipster trance."

They only danced for two or three songs, before they were completely winded.  Satisfied that everyone saw them doing their douchey little hipster mating display, they went back up onto our balcony, and leaned against the wall like well-seasoned pros.  They wound up spending more time stretching than dancing.  Which, as anyone who is familiar with physical activity will tell you, is really fucking pathetic.  It's like the guy who gets dressed up in his spandex, spends an hour stretching his legs while watching a workout video, and then does three sit ups before he calls it a day.   

The hipsters spent the rest of the show not paying attention to the band and appearing uninterested.  They just sat there, using their body language to say "my parents bought these twenty dollar show tickets so they could get me out of the house on a friday night".  And of course, every now and then, when they felt they weren't being watched, they'd start stretching again. 


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