To the judgemental hipster girl who works at my video store and smirks every time I rent a "Sex and the City" tape and actually ROLLED HER EYES the third time I rented "Win a Date With Tad Hamilton" (Josh Duhamel = Dreamy.) This girl is so condescending that I question my worthiness to even own a VCR. Now, for every "Cheaper by the Dozen" rental (Tom Welling. Enough said) I feel obliged to throw in a documentary or anything with subtitles so I am not made to feel totally soulless.
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Well, judgemental hipster girl, on Saturday afternoon I saw you walking out of... STARBUCKS!!!! And you were not empty handed, oh no. You had a venti (thats the biggest) cup of something and a little wax bag for some type of pastry. Starbucks? You are so hip and urban I would expect you to be over at La Colombe gnawing on beans with the rest of the coffee fascists in this city.
Your secret is out judgemental hipster girl. You go to Starbucks. That probably means you devour every issue of People magazine as soon as you can get your hipster hands on it. I bet at the end of your hip, judging workday you go home and unwind by putting your hair up in a pony tail, slipping on a pair of Juicy Couture terrycloth sweatpants and slipping in a tape of your favorite episodes of "Friends." Your freezer is full of Lean Cuisines and chocolate ice cream. Your fridge is stocked with Diet Cokes and wine coolers (Wild Berry .) You know everything there is to know about the Olsen twins (Mary Kate is your favorite) and in college you belonged to a sorority. You were known to all the other Tri Delts at Bucknell or Lehigh or Penn State for your collection of scrunchies.
Judgemental hipster girl- embrace your inner cheesiness. Don't be ashamed of your devotion to Matt Damon and your hobby of decoupaging lampshades with pictures of unicorns and bunnies. You go to Starbucks and that means that for every Saturday night you spend downing PBR's in a cloud of clove cigarette smoke at McGlinchey's or Bob and Barbara's you secretly wish that you were extending a french manicured grip around a big pink cosmopolitan at a Stephen Starr restaurant surrounded by our So Jer sisters from across the bridge. For all your smug, judging hipness you are just like the rest of us.
Well, judgemental hipster girl, I am putting you on notice. I am marching over to the video store and renting every "Sex and the City" tape chronologically, beginning with Season One Episode One (you know it. The one where Carrie meets Big for the first time.) I am going to rent cute Reese Witherspoon romantic comedys and The Meg Ryan/Tom Hanks combo films. I am going to have you retrieve every film that James van der Beek has EVER been in.
And maybe when I come in, I will bring you a Venti, decaf, non fat, no sugar, light whip, macchiaspressoccinomochalatte from Starbucks. Because you love them.