I was watching a movie about twenty-something's turning into thirty-something's the other night, and I realized that I would like a hipster posse.
You know what I mean--that group of friends you see in every movie where the lead character is a writer, an artist, or something involving being creative.
All his/her friends are usually hipsters and they form a posse.
Well, I have decided that I need a hipster posse as well.
So--I set out to find one.
It's not all that difficult, believe it or not.
Ideally, you need about six people. You want at least one couple--two is preferable--and then the two random singles.
Most hipster posses are like the cast of 'Friends' except they're not as attractive and at least one of them has to have had sex with a prostitute.
The easiest thing to do is find people with hipster names.
I browsed around on Facebook until I had a list assembled:
Danica
Patrice
Louisa
Kale
Vivon
Brogan
And
This
She-She
Nico
Valissa
Hatrack
Diphtheria
And--
Clyth (Pronounced Clive--he gets really mad if you don't say it right on the first try, which makes him PERFECT.)
I picked my top ten, and invited them to dinner.
They were required to bring food that only peasants would eat and expensive wine that only grad students would spend money on.
Diphtheria brought half a loaf of bread and a bottle of something from Europe that costs more than some European countries spend on their roads.
We got to talking, and I was able to eliminate one of the boys because his parents weren't rich. I eliminated a girl because her parents are rich but she doesn't talk about how ashamed of them she is. The first boy was only eliminated because if you don't HAVE rich parents to begin with, you can't possibly talk about how ashamed of them you are.
And was eliminated because he prevented us from trailing off during dinner, which is something hipsters have to do all the time.
BROGAN: It was just so esoteric and...and...
AND: Yes?
BROGAN: Huh?
AND: You weren't talking to--oh, I see.
BROGAN: Damn, where was I?
We were getting nowhere--so And had to go.
With one more person to be eliminated before I had my hipster posse, things got intense.
Kale started talking about her love for whittling.
Valissa recited a poem she wrote about her mother's breast cancer.
Hatrack argued about the public option.
Diphtheria poured everyone more wine.
She-She confessed that she was adopted, and was going to premiere a one-women show about it sometime this summer.
Vivon enticed us all by promising that if she was made a member of the posse, she would become a lesbian for at least six months.
Finally, it became clear.
Danica had to go.
Not because I wasn't impressed when she showed all the girls how to make an up-do using sporks, but because--
ME: Your name isn't cool enough.
DANICA: I could change it. I could become Nella or Frooze?
VIVON: I have a cousin named Frooze!
ME: It's too late, Danica. I'm sorry.
As she exited my kitchen--lit only by candles, thereby saving the environment--I felt a little pang in my heart.
But then I remembered that pain is essential to the life of a hipster.
And I had some more wine and listened to She-She perform selections from "My Biological Country."
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