Hipster Karma

So, the Reluctant Receptionist and I went to see Regina Spektor last Wednesday at Town Hall. I was super excited, even though in the past I’ve steered clear of Regina’s early click-singing and pounding on wooden chairs schtick. Incidentally, if you haven’t already done so, pick up her newest album “Begin to Hope” – it’s really great and has been on consistent rotation in my ipod for the last couple months.

Highlights from the evening included:

1). The obese girl sitting next to the Reluctant Receptionist who was attending the concert by herself. When she wasn’t taking frantic pictures during the concert or singing along to every song, she was leaning far forward in her chair and crying. It was horribly tragic/hilarious.

2). The unknown person who decided to light up a JOINT in TOWN HALL (Truvy, was that you?).

3). The greatest number of hipsters I have ever seen in one setting. Honestly, there must have been a greater “Last Night’s Party” contingency there than McCarran Pool, P.S. 1 and Misshapes combined. Just to provide one specific example, a guy sitting in the row in front of us had a white boy afro, v-neck t-shirt, AND ironic coke-bottle thick, large-rimmed glasses that he probably originally wore in 1989. Yeah, it was that kinda crowd. And 75% of the audience seemed to know each other, waving/yelling back and forth across the house. In stark contrast, I sat there looking like a total square, still donning my conservative banana republic threads from work (tragically, some of us have to actually hold down jobs rather than subsist on a trust fund, swill Rosé wine, and spend time thinking of new ways to be cutting edge). On a side note, I should mention it’s been an ongoing theme recently for me to exist as an eyesore at every concert I attend (Kelly Clarkson = sea of tween girls, Ashtray Simpson = sea of tween girls, KTU Beatstock = sea of guidos, etc…etc…)

4). Midway through Regina’s first set (full of quirky chair-beating and Torn Anus [1] vowel bending), someone’s cell phone/ sidekick/ blackberry near us started spitting out obnoxious beeps. As a result, the early-20’s permafrown [2] girl with the obvi-hipster scarf in front of us made the snap decision that it must have been the Reluctant Receptionist or me, and started burning into us the dirtiest looks I’ve ever seen someone give another human being. We, of course, started laughing because A. it was neither of our phones and B. her reaction was wildly presumptuous and over-the-top. The beeping continued to go on for about two minutes, quickly getting everyone in the immediate vicinity supremely annoyed. Finally, we noticed HSSG (hipster scum scarf girl) leaning and grappling under the chair in front of us. More rustling, and it became evident the beeping was coming from her own phone. The stupid HSSG didn’t even know the sound of her OWN PHONE. I mean, wow. We obviously couldn’t let this opportunity go and started making loud comments to each other to the extent of: “Oh my GOD. She couldn’t stop glaring at us and it turned out to be her own phone! What an IDIOT!”. And that, my friends, is karma.

[1] Nickname for Tori Amos
[2] Nickname originally attributed to Jamie Gleicher of MTV’s ‘Rich Girls’.