Hipster flavor

I had forgotten how many hipster 24 year-olds there are in the Mission. And, I don't really think of myself as one, until Scott, or someone else, makes some remark.

Tonight Scott, his friend Jose, and I walked over to El Buen Sabor on Valencia and 18th for some food. On our walk there from our house, we encountered several groups of twenty-somethings. The first group (two boys and two girls, all of whom were wearing either tight jeans, hooded sweater/sweatshirt, and blazer or some combination of those items) were talking about how cool "Stairway to Heaven" is when sung backwards in Norwegian. The second group (a foursome of dingy-looking and kinda drugged-out girls) were walking by the community thrift store on Valencia when one remarked, "This is the best thrift store ever." The third group of three boys and two girls was eating at El Buen Sabor as well, was dressed in regulation hipster uniform, and looked as if, as Scott described it, they were on a group Mormon date.

As I sat there eating my super taco (it really was super, piled high with grilled steak, black beans, cheese, rice, and lettuce) and drinking my Modelo, I made a mental note to shop for non-blazer jackets, to not wear my Chuck Taylors quite as often, to not get my hair cut asymmetrically, and to be proud of the fact that few people guess that I'm as young as I really am.