A while back I resolved to cease visiting a certain establishment located in downtown San Francisco, because I realized that I did not belong there.
I liked the place, but it wasn't suitable. I'm a stubborn middle-aged fish, and I do not wish to associate with people who won't respect that.
Such people being mostly young and unbearably hip.
Lord knows I am not young and hip.
Far from it, in fact.
Having some smirking know-it-all urban white-bread bitch smarmily pulling a humongously precious attitude, while surrounded by equally ignorant and smarmy youthful hipsters who support her point of view because they greatly esteem her pillowy tits, is not part of the programme.
I find such excessive mammaries offensive.
Which is why I wasn't impressed.
Actually, I didn't even notice the damned things until you brought them up. And what was the point of that, by the way? Did you fear that they were
the only thing that made you stand out?
You were probably right.
My patience is finite. I do not accept snoot from superficial barely post grammar school San Francisco hipsters. Not regarding cellphones or my astounding lack of same, not about matters Netherlandish, not pursuant whatever cultural or political identity I claim, nor about what I am in
how many parts and to what extent.
I am as I am. Suck it up, or choke on it.
I am both 100% other than you lot, as well as 100% normal.
It is immaterial that you do not grasp the distinction.
You do not get to persnick these matters.
Given that I am clearly too old, stingy, and peculiar, I have decided that that particular business establishment and this blogger are a horrid fit most of the time. Consequently I shall only patronize it on rare occasions, when dipwads do not come, and people I actually like might be there.
Life is too short to drink Starbucks, or deal with dingo-brains.
Or to spend money at places where such people are welcome.
Did I already mention "stingy"? It's a Dutch habit I have not been able to shake. See, Dutch people don't like wasting their money, especially not at places where it doesn't seem to be worthwhile. Such as places which cater to a more free-wheeling hip and with-it clientele. A clientele far more appreciated, in the grand scheme of things, than eccentric middle-aged
gits with moderate spending habits.
Yeah, I know that that describes all of San Francisco.
But lets face it, this city is sliding backwards.
Nothing but glibbety-wibbeties here.
Pretentious, shallow, dull.
Thoroughly hip.
==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
MAY GET DIZZY, DON'T GET PREGNANT
After picking up my refills I mentally calculated how often I've been to that pharmacy. More times than my years of age. Which is not su...
3 comments:
I feel the same way. But don't bother to move. It's the same everywhere. No sense of style just a sense of entitlement. Poorly educated, only reads magazines like GQ or things in the supermarket checkout lane. Poor social skills, not friendly or open just this arrogant facade of success. Aberrant behavior such as sexual promiscuity, Donald Trump worship and obsession with their smart phone. My opnion is this is all due to poor or no parental involvement which leads to a vicious downward spiral. The bottom line is many children are being raised by a failed school system. All leading to an irrational obsession of smart phones, silicone implants and bee sting lips.
KR
Yeah, I realize that. I'm beginning to hate the cell-phone crowd. They and their attitudes were more-or-less the target of a previous temperamental rant: The Avenues People.
Problem is that they're winning.
And they keep producing more of themselves.
Like flies breeding on dung.
My boss and owner of the company refuses to allow people to access their phones during company functions. He calls it anti-social behavior and I have to agree.
KR
Post a Comment