From the sidewalk
So...I am walking outside of UCSF hospital today, after visiting Trisha and Deuce, when a hipster comes strutting by. Timbuk2 bag swung around his back, iPod on the strap, large sunglass, tattered jeans, bright trainers...he had the entire urban look. He was just strutting up the sidewalk coming towards me. And he spit.
Not that spitting is bad, mind you. It's fine. It's the fact that the huge pile of phlem didn't make it far enough and landed on his shirt, smearing from his shoulder down towards his belly button. Yeah...disgusting.
And the recovery? Oh...it gets even better...
He lifts up his shirt, and the required bag that is slung over his shoulder, to slurp it back into his mouth. At which point he spits it back out.
You can take the hipster out of the trailer park, but you can't take the trailer park out of the hipster.
Not that spitting is bad, mind you. It's fine. It's the fact that the huge pile of phlem didn't make it far enough and landed on his shirt, smearing from his shoulder down towards his belly button. Yeah...disgusting.
And the recovery? Oh...it gets even better...
He lifts up his shirt, and the required bag that is slung over his shoulder, to slurp it back into his mouth. At which point he spits it back out.
You can take the hipster out of the trailer park, but you can't take the trailer park out of the hipster.
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