This is how it goes: There is a line. Doors are at 9:00pm. I wait.
The scene is this: Hipsters EVERYWHERE. Talk of music. Elitists. Pea coats. Tights with Keds. Skinny jeans. Cigarettes. Wall leans (think James Dean).
It is dark and a limo pulls up. Out steps two boys and two girls. Not men. Not women. These four individuals are certainly no older than eighteen. They walk to the end of the line. They are ignored.
"Doors were supposed to be at 9:00pm," someone says with a sigh. We shuffle forward, our I.D.'s extended. The bouncer looks at me, then the I.D. and I know that he is thinking: "This girl looks nothing like the photo on the I.D." but really it is me... five years ago. He wraps my arm with a neon green bracelets to show that I am over 21 and I continue on to the bag checker who shines a flashlight into my purse and scoots me on down the line to pay the $10 cover charge to get in. They stamp my wrist "LOVE" and let me enter.
The room is filled with radiating sound. THUMP-A THUMP-A. First MGMT blasts, then Chairlift. The room is filled with young hip people. They are the type of people I always wish I knew; they ooze interesting.
The Bands come on and we push to the front. We tap our feet. We sway our hips. Our lips move along to the words. Our hair sticks to our necks because of the heat and closeness of our bodies, like sardines, packed up towards the front of the room. They dance and pose for us. They belt out words with lust in their eyes. The room vibrates with bass. The lights flash and all of the band members smile.
Location: THE VIRGINS @ POPSCENE, San Francisco, CA, U.S.A.
2 comments:
you went to Hipster Haven without meeeeeee?
I'm sorry Angie! When you come back to America we'll go to the land of the Hipsters together and it will be wonderful!
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