If I have to read on a Thursday night, most of the time, I will do so at home. My neighborhood is usually crawling with carousing hipsters on Thursday evenings, and I worry that I might feel cheated, walking to a cafe to read. But yesterday, I was feeling a bit invincible, in case you did not notice. Well, that and my apartment has reached a state of such clutter that it actually distracts me from being able to read peacefully.
So, journal articles in hand, I marched over to Ritual. This is clearly a streak of insanity revealing itself, because I do not, for one thing, under any circumstances, drink coffee. Also, Ritual is the nuevo hipster of all hipster cafes in my neighborhood. The last time I was in there studying during the day, I saw Om Malik working with a friend, both of them typing away furiously on their laptops (I was too intimidated to say "Hi, remember me? I'm the one who has the blog about nothing!"). Techtards have no place there, but I sidled up to the counter anyway. The pleasant hipster behind the counter gave me an enormous cup of white tea with roses, and I carried it over to the main seating area.
I was surprised to find that Ritual was packed on a Thursday night. More than that, I timidly looked up from my journals at one point, and realized that nearly everyone was sitting alone, typing away on their iBooks. I am glad I did not bring my non-Apple laptop to the festivities. I might have been lynched. Or at least ridiculed. So there we were, all of us, alone together on a Thursday night. Did I mention that I love my city?
Today, there is a hint of stress, because I have been designated the sponsor of a blow-out dinner. The stress relates solely to the necessity of looking presentable at these sorts of establishments. I haven't looked presentable since 2001, people. Start placing bets on how soon before we'll be asked to leave the super chic restaurant.
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