So in New Orleans, there are a few of these
post-Katrina hipster eateries, and a few times
I've tried their "tapas" and such, and usually I
leave unimpressed by the food or service, and
go on with my life. I just tried one that's been
on my list for a while.
I went in, sat at the bar, placed my to-go order,
and waited. There was one other couple there,
also at the bar. They were standard hipsters: guy
had the short hair and beard, girl had a the 50's
librarian outfit. They were in their late twenties.
So the bartender asked the couple "where are y'all
from"? I pretended to read, but I was curious.
"Seattle".
"Oh, yeah?" said the bartender. "I used to live there.
What part of town?"
The couple responded, and named one of the city's
richest areas. Unable to hide her surprise, and at
the risk of embarrassing the couple, the bartender
blurted "What in the world do y'all do for a living?"
Clearly taken aback, the two tourists glanced at
each other, then the bartender. Then the man
answered.
"Nothing".
There were a few mumblings after that; something
about one of their parents. But my food came, so
it was time to go. Having been on a fanatical
diet since Ash Wednesday, I had ordered a
Veggie Burrito (what could go wrong?).
When I got home, I opened my burrito, and began
to chow down, only to realize that my burrito was
filled with steak. Big, fatty, globs of gristly red meat.
Allow me to emphasize one fact: the couple was
already eating when I got there. My Veggie Burrito
was the only order in the place.
It was then that I felt an old familiar sense of relief.
It's a relief of knowing that you haven't been missing
anything. It's also the relief of knowing that you
won't be tempted to spend your money at some
new shiny place in the future.
So overall, I enjoyed my trip to Hipster Heaven,
but tomorrow night it's back to home cookin'.
and waited. There was one other couple there,
also at the bar. They were standard hipsters: guy
had the short hair and beard, girl had a the 50's
librarian outfit. They were in their late twenties.
So the bartender asked the couple "where are y'all
from"? I pretended to read, but I was curious.
"Seattle".
"Oh, yeah?" said the bartender. "I used to live there.
What part of town?"
The couple responded, and named one of the city's
richest areas. Unable to hide her surprise, and at
the risk of embarrassing the couple, the bartender
blurted "What in the world do y'all do for a living?"
Clearly taken aback, the two tourists glanced at
each other, then the bartender. Then the man
answered.
"Nothing".
There were a few mumblings after that; something
about one of their parents. But my food came, so
it was time to go. Having been on a fanatical
diet since Ash Wednesday, I had ordered a
Veggie Burrito (what could go wrong?).
When I got home, I opened my burrito, and began
to chow down, only to realize that my burrito was
filled with steak. Big, fatty, globs of gristly red meat.
Allow me to emphasize one fact: the couple was
already eating when I got there. My Veggie Burrito
was the only order in the place.
It was then that I felt an old familiar sense of relief.
It's a relief of knowing that you haven't been missing
anything. It's also the relief of knowing that you
won't be tempted to spend your money at some
new shiny place in the future.
So overall, I enjoyed my trip to Hipster Heaven,
but tomorrow night it's back to home cookin'.
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