Post #576513 by Club Nouméa on Thu, Feb 17, 2011 4:56 AM

Part Two: My first sortie into the wild

Holed up in Ms Nouméa's gritty pied à terre in Oakland (one of the nation's murder capitals, so I am informed), I waited and let nature take its course. Stubble grew to facial hair which grew to a beard-like protuberance that was hacked and beaten into shape until it passed Ms Nouméa's exacting quality tests.

She taught me that unlaboured pose, that loitering insouciance so characteristic of the Bay Area hipster. In an endeavour to rid me of my proper English, I had strange expressions like "don't 86 me" drummed into me until I could flick them off at the drop of a ciggy butt with just the hint of an uncaring sneer on my lip.

I studied useful on-line "teach yourself how to be a hipster" literature:

http://www.buzzle.com/articles/how-to-dress-like-a-hipster.html

And I was shown special videos to assist me with assimilating myself into my new environment; Oakland:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CzkoeyhAAdk

I was a dedicated pupil, and it was not that long before I had (I thought) mastered the basics of hipsterdom.

By that time, I was raring to go out: "What about the Stork Club? Can't we go tonight?"

She rolled her eyes. "The Stork Club!?! Ever heard about not running before you can walk? They'd eat you alive down at the Stork Club!"

"Well I can't stay here forever - surely there's somewhere I can go?"

"I've got just the place."

And that was how I got to visit the local branch of Trader Joe's and saw my very first Californian tiki:

Elated by this momentous event, and breathless from the excitement of returning intact from my first foray into the wilds of the Bay Area, little did I suspect then that even greater things were to come...

CN

Toto, j'ai l'impression que nous ne sommes plus au Kansas !

[ Edited by: Club Nouméa 2011-02-17 05:01 ]

[ Edited by: Club Nouméa 2011-02-17 05:05 ]