Him, shrugging: "I don't know."
Me: "Why don't we go to the Lost Bar for a beer or two? That could be fun."
Him: "Nah. That's a hipster bar."
Me, thinking: "Um, alright. Maybe we could go to Johnny Brenda's?"
Him: "Ugh! That place is even worse! It's practically crawling with hipsters."
Me: "So what? It's a bar where beer will be served. Who cares?"
Him: "They just suck, that's all."
Hearing him rant about hipsters is like hearing your dad talk about Hannah Montana: he's speaking about something that he has no business caring about. Who cares what hipsters do? It's like caring about someone's interests on Friendster or that Project Runway moved to the Lifetime network or who your fourth employer listed on LinkedIn is: NO ONE CARES! No one should give a shit about hipsters ever. End of story.
It's like in his mind, anything fun and vaguely enjoyed by young people is somehow equated to a devil's den where people sip PBRs and slouch and possibly have a Tumblr blog. BFD.
Fuck, this guy is getting on my nerves. The only places he ever wants to go are to Phillies games, his neighbor's house to watch Phillies games, or his own living room to watch Phillies games. Just hearing the word "hipster" from his mouth makes me want to roll my eyes so hard that they'll pop out of my head, spin down the floor, and come to a gentle rest by the edge of the carpet. THUMBS WAY THE FUCK DOWN!