My Serious Hipster Friday Night

Artist boy and I took the L train to the serious hipster scene I had been promised.

My sense of foreboding began when I noticed that every female in our subway car (aside from the homeless woman and myself) was dressed alike. All the girls had an odd, mullet-esque hair cut, a suit jacket and/or a baggy cardigan and black tights. (Or were they leggings? And what's the difference?)

The men were a bit more varied in look, but they all sported the same shaggy hair cut that had looked so charming on my artist boy when I thought it incidental, not carefully planned in a lemming-like pursuit of coolness.

We arrived at the apartment building to find a scene eerily reminiscent of a college dorm. All apartment doors were open, people were congregating in the hallway and a keg of beer was being rolled into someone's kitchen.

Artist boy shuttled me around the building making introductions. People were bearing down on him at an alarming rate, the males yelling his name and clapping him on the shoulder, the females tossing their mullet hair and smiling suggestively.

I soon tired of playing the quiet co-dependent guest in the background so I kissed artist boy on the cheek and made a break for the alcohol.

As I waited to fill up my little plastic cup with beer, a friendly looking bearded creature tapped me on the shoulder.

"Hi, what’s up, I'm John."
"Hi John."
"My friends call me Concept." Okay.
"Hi Concept." He smiled in a satisfied sort of way.

It was time to drink until this was funny. Unfortunately, instead of drinking until it was funny, I drank until I wanted to make out with artist boy. I wandered in and out of apartments until I found him smoking a cigarette by a window and petting someone’s dog.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey," he smiled. He looked completely stoned.

"I just heard people talking about the roof, want to go see what's up there?"

"Sure."

What was up on the roof was a handful of very fucked up people trying to body paint each other, a kiddie pool, a view of Manhattan and an old velvet sofa. I pulled artist boy onto the sofa.

"Hey," he said. "I like you." I smiled.

"I like you too." I was only half-lying. I really like kissing him.

I woke up the next morning.

Pluses: I was in my own bed, alone.
Minuses: I was in all my clothes, with a large, uneaten pizza on the floor.