The Hipster: Model No. AZ865HAT

The Hipster: Model No. AZ865HAT

hipster top hat.jpg

Right beside the young Latina donning a Fidel Castro hat but in the style of Vladimir Lenin, circa 1918 or maybe 1908, who is staring at a revolution of organic chemistry textbooks, stands the barista dude, barely 20, with a mustard-colored beanie clinging to his head as if its life depended on it, stands the minimally-smiling Asian American master roaster, likely in her 30s, funky as all get out, wearing blue-jean overalls with a solid black tee as well as khaki-brown hiking boots, loosely fitting, untied, in the coffee-roasting corner of the indie coffee shop in the university town, turning beans the color of her hair and having topped her carefully curated self-presentation with an actual black top hat, which rests on her head at an almost perfect 45-degree angle, everything save that one detail suggesting an experienced circus ringmaster or at least a magic performer for kids’ birthday parties, either way not like you or me, quite different, different from, more unique, more strange, perhaps even a bit weird, except of course when she cries, except when she laughs or plays, gets anxious or angry, except when she longs to be loved, hates injustice, notices she has a soul, experiences neglect or abandonment, except when she feels the impulse to conserve the world, to make something, to create, to breathe.


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What the Crocodile Eats