Hipster Heaven

There are very few bars that my friends and I can agree on.

I like frat boy, bright, crowded, pop-music-playing, trendy places.

They like hipstery, dark, empty, weird-music-playing, obscure places.

So, it's pretty much a miracle when we find a bar we can agree on. But somehow, we managed to find one place.

The bar was a mixture of all the things we love. Some neighborhood hipsters lingered, looking lost, some frat boys make the long pilgrimage from the upper east side, it is dark yet crowded and I am drunk enough that I don't care what type of music is playing. All in all, it is the perfect middle of a rarely overlapping Venn Diagram.

We had already had a bunch of drinks as we approached the mechanical bull. Yes, that's right, I said mechanical bull. I immediately noticed the guy riding it - tall, in good shape, great smile, with greenish eyes and blondish hair. He wore tightish jeans (not usually my thing, but if it works it works), along with a white button down shirt, a skinny tie (again, really guys? But again, it worked), and a blazer. As he dismounted the bull and passed by me, I very smoothly said "Hey...you were really good on that bull."

And thus began a week-long whirlwind romance with the hipster, that I will write more about later.