Alright so…in New York City there are these fantastic Brooklyn house parties hosted by Mr. Saturday Night. The dude is an Artist and rather than pay apartment rent and studio rent he got one large place and throws parties to make ends meet. Every Saturday he moves all the furniture to one side of the apartment and everybody shows up and has a good time.

Now in the Summer the parties are outside, big field behind his apartment and on Sundays. Happily and finally I was in NYC during the same time as one of these jams. BBQ! Mexican Cokes and more.

It was a hipster orgy of mustaches, suspenders, t-shirts worn in ironic fashion, Pabst and of course neon bra straps. I had an outstanding time (Sweet Josh Groban…have I become the very thing I loathe? Have I become a hipster?!).

At this party here are some of the conversation I overheard:

Hipster #1: Last night, for dinner…we went to that place with the orange sign. This is what we ate:” Holds out iphone with photo of last night’s dinner.
Hipster #2: “Looks delish. This is what I ate for lunch.” Hipster #2 holds out iphone photo of his lunch.

“Did you hear…New Jersey won the state championship!”
“Amazing! Well done…for what sport?”

“I know right? Her outfit looks exactly like something my mom would buy but never wear.”

“There’s too many people at this party!”
“You want to leave?”
“No I want all these people to leave.”

“Cassette tapes make me laugh at the irony.”

-28-

Also published on Medium.