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"I love this!" chimed in Shanna's friend Francesca. "You get lost."
"It's kinda trancy," Michelle agreed.
Brendan had a prediction: "Like any progressive form, eventually it will get watered down and become more marketable."
Well, then, I'd give the stuff a try before it was soggy and sold out. As I tried to develop an ear for the stuff, I started giving the tracks my own names like "Being Stalked by a Ruthless Violin (and Its Piano Accomplice) on a Dark Night" and "R2D2 and His Synthesizer Have a Lover's Quarrel."
It was actually a fun game, but I prefer music I can hum, so Michelle and I headed back inside. I figured I'd get the scoop on hipsters from Mikey, who as a floppy-haired, tie-wearing DJ and indie-music storeowner seemed like a hipster poster child.
"I'm not a hipster. All that hipster bullshit is a farce," he declared. "A certain haircut doesn't make someone a hipster. I'll admit it: I like Phil Collins."
"Me too," Michelle chimed in.
Oh, super, we could all feel it coming in the air tonight.
Next to me, a big dude with a Sacred Heart plug in his ear and a blue tattoo up his neck began humping Mikey. It was a strange way to say hello, for a person, that is. I said so.
Introducing himself as Brooklyn, the 30-year-old straight-edge vegan laughed, and then he set me straight: "The people who are here want to be here; they aren't here to be seen like in downtown Fort Lauderdale."
"Have you gotten any attitudes from people here?" Mikey asked.
I admitted that everyone had been friendly and unpretentious. Even the bartender whose black tank top read "There's glory in subversion. There's glory in destruction" had been as sweet as pie.
"What about the name? Why Revenge?" I asked.
DJ Richard V. fielded that question: "The night's named after a Ministry song... When they were still synth-pop, before he was aggro."
Michelle had just come back from getting her groove on, and I suggested we go to the diner for a late-night (actually, early-morning) bite. On our way out, I asked Mikey about the red light on the DJ booth.
"I have no idea why it's there," he shrugged before adding a wry rejoinder. "The hipsters probably put it there."