HIPSERS

time was, you could get yerself to a bar and siddown and get yourself a PROPER MARTINI WITH GIN AND NOT VODKA and expect to get three green olives STUFFED WITH RED BITS and not BLUE CHEESE and just think a bit.

but then here comes the foppy young'uns who think they men.

they all look the same, like the chickbirds they flock with, but the chickbirds all look alike cuz they wanna and they hafta. whereas the young bucks look alike cuz they think they all look different.

them dudes stand around in old clothes even i wouldn't wear and think they are "cool." they wear suspenders and cuffed trousers and flannels and whatnot and they all wear black, thick-rimmed glasses. but the glasses are shaped different from one nother so they "different."

even if they are all the same.

they talk the same, too. they order drinks they've looked up on the Interweb: EWWW, they exclaim, HEMINGWAY DRANK A DAIQUIRI BUT IT'S NOT A GAY DAIQUIRI LIKE YOU'RE THINKING, IT'S JUST RUM AND LEMON JUICE AND SUGAR OVER ICE... AND THAT IS IT.

they all look at the bartender and they always ask, CAN YOU MAKE THAT??

then they sip off their drinks and announce, EWWWW! THIS IS HOW A DRINK SHOOOOOLD BE!

DAGNABIT -- YOU WOULD ALREADY KNOWN THAT, YOU JUST LISTEN TO SOMEONE WHO KNOWS.

but then they always chase it with a pabst, which they call "PBR." have you had yerself a pabst? IT TASTES LIKE PISS THAT'S TURNED STALE IN A TOILET THAT AIN'T BEEN FLUSHED IN THREE YEARS.

and then when one of the thick-rimmed glass boys walk away to donate some pabst to the latrine, the other kids will accuse him of being a, what? what is that? HIPSER. accuse him of being a hipser.

HE'S SUCH A HIPSER! DID YOU SEE HIS LOAFERS? TOTALLY HIPSER. THESE ONES? THESE WERE MY GRANDPA'S, SO...

They all take turns making fun of each other's hipser ways.

time was, an old man's bar was an old man's bar -- you coulda had conversation, with a friend or a stranger. maybe watch a game. maybe meet a good woman once in a while. maybe run into an old acquaitance.

nowadays, every time i find me a little place o' my own, ain't but a couple weeks before them hipsers take over, EWWING and AHHING about how AUTHENTIC this DIVE BAR is.

they look at me like i'm some kinda museum piece, like some extincted animal kept living in some zoo.

i miss the days you could go to a bar and enjoy a drink or three and not have to bear snot-nosed brats who don't know a dangblamed thing about drinks.