Vic Victor (in the middle) is a very attractive person with a fantastic stage presence. I stared-a lot.
Take a Listen
In a search for something to do, I wasn't exactly thrilled with the notion of going to Lawrenceville (a hipster mecca) to see a band that dresses exclusively in skinny jeans and pompadours. When we pulled up to The Thunderbird Cafe, I was put-off by its proximity to Belvedere's and Crazy Mocha. Here I was in the middle of Hipsterville without a knit cap or a bullet can of Pabst Blue Ribbon!
As we walked the street and peeked into the windows of open and closed businesses, I began to fantasize about living here and being able to walk to a real bus-line, a Middle-Eastern restaurant, and a coffeeshop (that sells tshirts for some reason). I was scared and confused by my own musings. We hadn't even gone into the bar, yet.
After finding a cozy seat at The Thunderbird, I was thoroughly charmed by the bartender: a young man with a knit cap and a mustache. I was totally thrilled with all of the insanely attractive men with their Johnny Cash shirts with rolled-up sleeves, their wallet-chains, their thick and luxurious sideburns and their general good-grooming. Gina and I commented later that these men were unlike most of the men that we see in Pittsburgh that either always look as though they've just come from the gym or they've just exited a Fraternity House (with that amazing polo shirt/cargo short/flip flop combo). We questioned where they'd been hiding in our day-to-day lives.
For ten dollars we were able to see three bands that actually cared about putting on a good show and being entertaining. Three bands that played because they liked it and engaged the audience before and after their sets while watching the other acts. Three bands that did not play classic rock of ANY kind. Who knew that there was any band in Pittsburgh/visiting Pittsburgh at the club-level that didn't have Lynyrd Skynyrd in their repertoire.
The patrons were dancing, they were polite and pleasant with nice manners, and they were completely covered with clothes (sans one girl that looked as though she may have been "off," but attractive enough to ensnare a rockabilly boyfriend and pretend to like what he likes). There was no yelling, no cussing, no fights or Steelers chants. There was no body shots, no seductive dancing, no hardcore making-out in front of everyone. It was awesome.
What does this mean? Do I like hipsters? Do I enjoy their culture? Am I having an identity crisis?
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