Prepster Love

I'm not sure if I've mentioned this yet on my blog, but hipsters drive me insane. Even worse is the preppy hipster, the prepster (use definition number 2). The prepster, let's call him Will, went to prep school, lets say Lawrenceville just to piss Caroline off. He was popular but never the big guy on campus, was the manager of the girls LAX team in order to fulfill the mandatory sports requirement, that sort of thing. Next he went to a liberal arts college because he didn't want to be like the man and go to the Ivies/was rejected from the Ivies. For the purpose of this story let's say Amherst, still fairly tooly, but near Hampshire which gives it hipster cred. During college he got a little too involved in artsy extra-curriculars and stopped going to class. At risk of failing out, withdrew and convinced his parents that he needed a year off to "find himself". He started the year in Europe, backpacking through London, Paris and a random city that sounds off the radar of most people but actually is really popular with all American's in Europe...we'll go with Budapest. After running through most of his money by August he moved back to the states. Too scared to move to hipster central in Brooklyn, he instead settled for Philadelphia, bunking with his house buddy from L'ville who's a senior at Penn. During the day while his buddy, let's call him Andy, goes to management classes at Wharton, Will wanders the city taking pictures and being "inspired". The year of fun ends and rather than heading back to Amherst to finish his degree in english literature, Will stays in Philadelphia. By this point Andy has moved to New York to start a job at, uh, something that's still in operation there. Will is thus faced with a money shortage and a lack of housing. So he moves to a Northern Liberties row home with some guys he met at a bar on South St and earns some bucks "writing". His mother also sends him a monthly allowance for his secret J. Crew habit, but shhh, don't tell the roommates. He and Andy videochat on their respective Macs every night...well, every night that Andy isn't living the dream at some trendy bar, so basically once a week. Andy tells Will of the lunch meetings with Donald Trump, the never ending flow of champagne and vodka, and his apartment overlooking Central Park. Will is beginning to wonder if he made the right decisions. His hipster friends are really starting to piss him off. He doesn't really want to spend the night at another Rock Paper Scissors tourniment, and truthfully he was never really a fan of excessive cocaine usage. He's too stubborn to admit that he was wrong, however, so he deals. Every morning, while his roommates sleep off their hangovers on the mattresses spread around their cigarette butt littered living room, Will put on his khakis, pulls on his topsiders and throws a backward baseball cap onto his head before biking downtown. There he does some freelance writing for a blog about unicycle usage in the city. The tragic world of the prepster, hating his life, but too proud to go back to being a slave for the man. 

What is the point of this? The point is that I spent the other day hanging out at Remedy Tea in Center City, trying to write my thesis, but instead I watched the most tragic love story between a prepster and a hipster. Fascinating. I will now present "Of Trustfunds and Irony" a one act play describing my morning at a tea shop. Starring Will. 

Scene: Remedy Tea, 10:00 AM. Will walks into the tea shop with his laptop bag slung across his shoulder. The shop is empty, except for an extremely bitter young woman in the corner muttering something about the "God Damn Irish". Will orders a small iced tea and sits down by the window and begins to write. Shortly after a young hipster woman comes through the door. She orders a tea then goes to sit down at a table. 

Woman: Oh hi! Will right?

Will: *blank stare*

Woman: Ellie...we met at Troy's rager last week?

Will: grimacing at the reminder of the awful party ohh....hi! Uh, how are you doing

Ellie: sitting down on table next to Will I'm fantastic! How can you not be fantastic after what happened last night! I mean, after all these months of work it's so hard to believe that Obama is actually finally our President. I mean, I have my hang ups with him, but in general I just feel so alive this morning. What are your feelings on universal healthcare?

Will: silence

Ellie: I just think that it's something that not one even wants to talk about. Just look at Canada, why aren't we more like Canada? Everything is better in Canada. Have you heard the newest "Of Montreal" CD

Will: no....I haven't....but, uh, Canada's great wistfully remembers sophomore year Spring Break he spent there with his buddies. Able to drink legally before they were able to in the states. Oh college.....

Ellie: Oh it's fantastic Coldplays "Fix You" comes on the intercom oh WOW, I LOVE this song. This one really speaks to me.

Will: excited he can finally contribute Yea! Coldplay's great! I love Yellow too, that's a great one.

The two continue to name generic Coldplay songs that are on all of the Top 40 lists

Ellie: Well, I need to go do work. I brought ear plugs so that I can get stuff done, I hate it when everyone tries to talk to you while working

In the corner, the young anti-Irish woman guffaws loudly. Both characters get back to work. After about an hour a shy young woman carrying numerous art sketches enters

Woman:.....hi will...

Will recognizes the woman as the one he met at Duncan's art gallery opening at the McDonalds last week. He had been meaning to call her.

Woman: I'm sorry, you probably don't remember me, I'm Sara

Will: no, no, of course I remember you! folds laptop down how, uh, how are you?

Sara: oh, I'm just fine, what are you doing? Do you work?

Will: hesitant well....I write. How about you

Sara: I'm trying to get into art school

silence. Will desperately wants to ask for her number, but is too afraid dive further into this hipster thing. 

Sara: well, I uh, better be going...

In the background Ellie has removed her ear plugs and is starring at the two

Will: WAIT! Are you going to Fiona's electric violin concert tonight? It's to benefit victims of...oh I forget what...but are you going?

Ellie: WHAT!?!?! unable to take it any longer she runs up to the table I'll be at Fiona's benefit! I'm running the cash box actually. I care deeply about the cause

Sara: What's the cause?

silence

Sara: umm, yea...I guess I'll be there

Ellie:glaring at Sara Good. Because Will and I are going

Will: Rolls eyes Um, Sarah, can I have your number so I can call you with more details

Ellie: Do you want my number too?

Will: sighing yea.....

Numbers are exchanged. Sara excuses herself to continue her wandering of the city. Will opens laptop to begin writing again. Ellie retreats to her table, and begins text messaging Will now that she has his number. Fake laughter ensues. After a few minutes a guy wanders by, spots Will and bangs on the window to get his attention. Angry anti-Irish woman in the corner openly exclaims "WHAT THE HELL!"

Will: Troy! Hey! packs up work and wanders outside to say hi 

Ellie:Banging on window TROY! TROY! HEY! IT'S ME! ELLIE! HELLO!?!?!

Troy and Will walk down the street, leaving Ellie starring out the window. Ellie turns and notices the angry woman who mutters things starring at her with a big smile on her face. Ellie gives a nervous smile back and sullenly returns to work. Ten minutes later Troy and Will walk by. Ellie bangs on window to get their attention

Troy: Through window HEY! WE'RE GOING TO THE STORE TO GET FOOD FOR TONIGHT! WHAT KIND OF APPETIZERS DO YOU WANT!

Ellie: I LIKE NUTS!

Troy: WHAT?!!

Ellie: I. LIKE. NUTS! NUTS! GET NUTS! I LOVE NUTS

Troy and Will shrug, Will runs into shop quickly to see what girl wanted

Ellie: Nuts. I want nuts tonight. lowers voice umm...have you noticed that the girl next to us only types when we talk.....?

Will: Turns and gives girl a big "yea...I know, we're tools" smile uhh, no...you must be paranoid.  Walks away before Ellie has the chance to say anything else

Annnnnd Scene.

Maybe I don't hate prepsters more than hipsters. I just hate their life choices. Can I turn this in instead of my thesis?