Wednesday, August 13, 2008
One of the girls I share a Williamsburg artist loft with recently sent me this cry of desperation yuppie fantasy romance plea she came across in the Craigslist personals (I don’t know why she was looking through them. Don’t ask don’t tell, right?).
Anyway, I thought I would post this to give hipsters hope that, despite their outward standoffishness and unemployability, they too can find romance with the middle-aged banker of their dreams!
Banker looking for hipster
Who knows if it’ll work out?
You can’t wait to tear off my pinstripe suit. If you rip any buttons I’ll totally stretch out that tshirt you bought off etsy and pass off as your own.
On Monday nights you’ll try and get me to drink. You’ll think I won’t because I have an adult job. But I won’t because I want to be lucid for this week’s episode of The Hills.
The next day you’ll tell me that my job is boring and that you hate the Upper West Side. But the truth is that you kinda like making out in central park and enjoy that my bonus can cover all the grilled cheese sandwiches you dig. I’ll make fun of whatever dirty street you live on in Brooklyn, but I know it’s a lot more fun.
You’ll pretend you can cook and make me pancakes. I’ll probably distract you while you cook and you’ll probably burn them. It’s OK; I’ve got waffles in the freezer.
I don’t have to tell you what I do or my background. I’m great on paper (school, work, charities). I’m 6’1”…handsome and jewish/irish. You be cute, wear scarves, make witty/biting remarks, and have an infectious smile/laugh.
After a while I’ll probably become a vegetarian because of you and you’ll probably start bringing up op-eds from the wall street journal when you’re hanging out with your friends. It’s cool. Don’t fight it. I promise we’ll have the sweetest combined movie/CD collection of all the couples you know.
Send a PICTURE, AGE AND LOCATION. thanks. :)
I have a feeling that this scenario, should it be actualized by a lone hipsteress with a yuppie fetish, could lead to the most epic tale of unlikely romance of the century (think Pretty Woman but more high-tech and awkward). As a precaution, I will claim rights to that screenplay right now.
Be warned though: evolutionarily speaking, the human race has never experienced a cross of this kind. If said couple actually achieved a combined movie/CD collection that kept them together long enough to mate, the result would likely be a new species…
According to evolutionary biologists, the yupster offspring would likely experience inclinations to both climb the corporate ladder (which would be met with seemingly unmotivated gifts from his father and poorly-masked glances of disappointment from his mother), and defy corporate dress codes by wearing neon ties and metallic converse high tops (earning grim diatribes from his father and loving gestures of acceptance from his mother). This will result in the need for staff psychologists to develop a whole new scale to measure neuroticism and an entire section in the DSM-IV manual, aka the crazy guide.
The yupster hybrid would go on to create intriguing controversy within the company but would ultimately end up quitting to explore the possibilities of his sub-par punk band (which would of course emply viral marketing schemes to gain followers) or move to Hollywood to direct the movie of the story of his sad existence. Both courses of action would inevitably result in failure (note: the directing plan had promise, but was unfortunately aborted due to an inadvertent copyright breach, followed by a hefty lawsuit).
Mr. Banker, I don’t know if your romantic quest will work out either, but I sure hope it doesn’t – for the sake of the children.
Photo of hipstress reading by Christophe Legris for Stuff Hipsters Don’t Like ©2008