I like to write in a hipster-type coffee shop downtown in my city. It’s pretty fabulous: think exposed brick walls, floor tiles older than me, and a teal and neon green ceiling. The shop has fair trade everything, baristas who wear skeleton shirts and call you “dude” even if you’re a girl, and a clientele including mostly millennial generation tattooed people with Coexist stickers on their cars and backpacks.
Don’t ask me why I love it…I’m a conservative Christian school teacher who dresses like a Puritan and has no tattoos (though I’m maybe working on that latter part). Maybe that’s exactly why I love this place – there’s a part of me that identifies with these people, and I feel a little at home here. It also feels so wildly different from my real life that it’s like I have a mini-escape from my normal existence whenever I need it. Sometimes I need it.
Today I decided to try to fully assimilate with this crowd. I can be one of them! I thought optimistically. This came about because our car broke down (again). If we were rich, my husband might have bought me a new car so that I could stop driving mine. It’s as old as a high school junior. We’re not rich, however, so he bought me the next best (aka most affordable thing): a bike lock! I have a bike I bought for $10 at a garage sale earlier this summer, and that bike paired with my new shiny bike lock gave me UNLIMITED FREEDOM! Unlimited freedom within about a ten mile radius around my house, that is. Hey, at least I don’t have to stay home all day.
I quickly decided I would bike to my coffee shop. Showing up on a bike would be so hipster, I decided. I’m protecting the environment. People who drive cars are melting the polar ice caps and clearly hate baby polar bears. I am proving my love for baby polar bears by riding a bike instead of driving today.
Armed with that wonderfully hipster thought, I decided to continue my trend. What else could I do to fit in? I tried to find my husband’s thick-rimmed square glasses so I could wear them while working. I think thick-rimmed glasses always make people look suave and intelligent. 20/20 vision is for idiots. I don’t actually need glasses, but I could have worn them for a while to get the right “look.” Alas, I couldn’t find them.
Then I decided to put on a temporary tattoo, because everyone here has tattoos. I know I have some from an old bachelorette party somewhere. They’re mostly cheesy hearts or dice that say “lucky in love” or other weird things like that. I would have to hope people didn’t look too closely at my tattoo. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find the tattoos. My hipster look was not going as planned.
While looking for the tattoos, I found a great scarf that my grandma gave me a while ago. It’s made of 100% all natural materials, and I bet in a pinch I could probably eat it or smoke it. It would be perfect for a place like this! The problem with the scarf was that it’s the middle of August (aka HOT), and I would be riding across town on my bike. In retrospect, though, I regret not bringing the scarf. Heat be damned. I could have rocked it.
I finally decided on faded jeans, a neon green shirt, and a ponytail. I was going to wear no makeup (because natural is beautiful, dude), but then I had to put on a little makeup. I mean, you never know when you might run into an ex-boyfriend or the mayor or something. I didn’t want to look scary. Me without any makeup is a little scary.
Now I’m sitting here writing this blog and drinking my iced tea. I almost ordered my tea “on the rocks” to sound cool, but I wasn’t sure if that would make me sound hipster or just vaguely alcoholic. I decided I’m still a Level 1 hipster. I might even be below Level 1 if that’s an option. It’s a while before I will be advanced enough to try zippy lingo and wear no makeup.
Once I’m finished writing this blog post I’ll go back to working on my novel. When people ask why I go to this shop so much and I say, “to work on my book,” they get all judgy. They give me the sympathetically amused glance that adults give to high schoolers who say that they’re “in a band” and they’re “going to make it someday.” You know what I think? I think that for every garage band that didn’t make it, they had countless hours of fun banging away on keyboards and feasting on dreams. What’s wrong with that? It’s better than binge-watching Netflix or smoking crack, amirite? (That’s “am I right,” but a hip and fun way to write it. You’d understand if you were cool). Anyway, I like writing. Even if my novels never see a bookshelf, I won’t stop writing them. Let me enjoy banging away on my keyboard and feasting on my dreams. Different type of keyboard, same principle.
Gotta go. My favorite indie rock song just came on (kidding. I don’t listen to indie rock. I’m not even exactly sure what it is).