I don't think it's actually in the deck anymore, but when I was in high school there was a card in the Trivial Pursuit deck that asked the question: What city in the USA has the highest per capita population of homosexuals? Answer? Lakewood, Ohio. And I don't want to hear "urban legend" because I owned it. That card existed, people. I have no idea if that is still true and I couldn't care less. But I think Trivial Pursuit should start tallying up how many hipsters live in Lakewood. We may now have more than say, Portland. They are everywhere! Spreading hate and tragic layers of vintage clothing. And I swear these goddamn hipsters are going to incite me to riot.
We have two bakeries in the west end of Lakewood. For the sake of anonymity, let's call them Organic Hate Machine and Lovebirds House of Joy and Carbs. I usually go to the Lovebirds House of Joy and Carbs. I run in maybe once a week and buy some apricot croissants, maybe an apple galette and always grab a loaf of their French batard, sliced. The owners are ADORABLE. Husband and wife with cool birdie tattoos, precious little children, warm cozy environment that begs you to grab a cappuccino and a stool and watch the foot traffic go by. And their product is all crusty airy Frenchy good. The workers are all charmingly ditzy. They are like Etsy Hippies. They seem, at times, to have wandered in off the street from some crafting convention. If, when you are getting rung up, you were to ask one of them "How are you today?" you'll probably get something like:
"Well, I've got this really delicate fern at home, and I am sorta freaking out because I can't remember if I watered it this morning? Do you think it'll be OK? I mean until I get home?
or
"I'm just so tired and energized because I started a new quilt last night and it's just such a great feeling to create something beautiful and useful. Did you want that sliced?"
Charming. The whole damn place is reeking of quirky charm. And then there's the other bakery...
Organic Hate Machine. I never go there. (I'm lying. I do go there and I hate myself for it every time.) The bread is huge and doorstop-y and requires a great deal of chewing. If I ate all that organic grain on a regular basis I would grind my teeth flat. The store is all antique apothecary charm and ENTIRELY staffed by aggressive hipsters. But they have these cookies...
Me and the kids are obsessed with a well made ginger cookie. It must have the correct ratio of crunch and chew and a tiny hit of peppery bite. Organic Hate Machine makes the greatest ginger cookie on the planet. The problem is that you have to deal with the evil that lurks inside of the Organic Hate Machine in order to score one.
The angry hipsters that work there do not believe in the concept of a "line." So, being next in line means less than nothing. The first time I went in there, I was behind one person in line. Then some dude walked in and got in line behind me. When the ironically dressed girl behind the counter finished up with the person ahead of me, she looked RIGHT PAST ME and said to the dude behind me, " Hey, what can I get you?"
Because I am an uppity bitch, I slammed my hand on the counter and said, "HELLO?! I was next!" And Ms. Hipster looks at me, makes a disgusted sound and replies, "Whatever. He was like, here BEFORE." And then the two of them exchanged smug glances. Hipster solidarity, mo-fo!
Right. So I avoid the place until the siren call of the ginger cookie is too sweet, and then I find myself in a senseless line like I did yesterday with my kids. Trying not to look bitchy or pedestrian or whatever it is that pisses a hipster off. Behind the counter were two of the angriest little white girls ever. I can't imagine what hipsters are so goddamn angry about. Probably angry that people eat bread, that they have jobs, that they can't sit around all day making lists about how everyone else is so lame. One of the girls was wearing:
an African head wrap
giant tortoise horn-rim glasses
bowling shirt (mandatory for the hipster uniform)
skirt featuring animal crackers
orthopedic sneakers
And she purposely kept skipping us. And we just kept standing there, as she randomly chose whoever in line she seemed to think deserved service according to the hipster pecking order. I figured, "Fuck her. I will stand here until NO ONE is left and I'd like to see her ignore me then. And you act like you don't care what clothes you wear cause you're so "over it," but you and I both know, honey, that mommy and daddy bankrolled that dashiki on your head."
The other girl looked EXACTLY like Laverne. From Laverne and Shirley. She was wearing approximately every item of clothing you ever saw Laverne wear on the show, in many tragic layers. The only difference was the ear plugs. She wasn't so much ignoring us, as she was just standing there playing with her gloves and talking to some dude who WASN'T BUYING ANYTHING. And I'm not trying to say that these girls are the only girls that I ever see there. But they are all "make-your-own hipster" interchangeable.
(And it begs the question: Do all hipsters watch a great deal of Laverne and Shirley, American Graffiti and Carlito's Way? Are they style guides?)
And that's when I noticed it. Nearly everyone else in line was a hipster too. Guys wearing too small ancient suits, guys wearing polyester sweatpants in lime and yellow with western shirts. Girls dressed up like Rosie the Riveter, but with horn rims and and crocheted earrings and necklaces. "Holy shit," I realized, "we're surrounded! We are in a sea of the tragically hip! Lakewood has an infestation!"
And that's when it occurred to me. Suddenly, I saw the path before me and I knew what I must do.
"Riot. It's the only way. I have to start a hipster riot. I'm going to throw my arms in the air and yell, I am so over all this suburban organic shit! Organic is so 3 minutes ago! I'm leaving! Who's coming with me? I'm keeping it real! Let's go totally OLD SCHOOL and head down to the grocery store and buy all the Wonder Bread! Wonder Bread! Wonder Bread! Wonder Bread! "
But I had the kids with me so I just stood there smiling at the wall dreaming of the revolution to come... Then I noticed Dashiki Hipster staring at me with disgust. Apparently, it was my turn. And I could see every one of her hateful hipster thoughts pass across her face as she stared at me and pulled her disposable gloves on...
"Look at you, you sellout. Standing there expecting me to wait on you in your beige ruffle collared Ann Taylor rain coat. Gag. And your totally predictable ballet flats. And OMG you're a breeder. Breeding is so predictable. I mean, breeding once maybe, but twice? You people make me sick. You don't deserve bread. I bet you listen to smooth jazz. I bet you can't even grasp the genius of Steve Winwood."
But instead of screaming, "Wonder Bread!" in her face, I calmly asked for 3 ginger cookies. She sighed dramatically, as if it was beneath her to even bother. Then I said, "We really like them; they are so good!" She replied with a bitchy, "Whatever."
I paid her in nickles, dimes and pennies. And I made sure to count it out slowly. :) I really need a good ginger cookie recipe. I don't think it's mentally healthy for me to go back. Viva la Revolucion!! We must rout out the hipster infestation! We must fight them in the streets! Viva la Wonder Bread!
~dana
