Last night before bed, I took our dog out for a walk. As I do almost every night. I wish I had the card above, for I surely would have been a winner. Now that Donald Trump is looking more and more like he is going to be the Republican nominee to run for Oompa Loompa in Chief, winning is important. Winning a lot.
Anyhow, as we made our way down the street, I came across a "hipster" who ticked most of the boxes above.
Note, I live in San Francisco, California, in the neighbourhood locally called "South Beach." It - along with perhaps the Mission District - is close to the epi-centre of local hipsterism. I'm surrounded by earnest young adults, the sort who frequent the notorious "Google Buses" and work for companies like Yo dot Com (motto: Twitter? Pffffft. 140 characters is too many).
Ridiculous, oversized-glasses? Check. Ill-fitting "slim fit" pants? Check. Tee shirt sporting a product that has been defunct longer than the guy wearing it has been alive, trying too hard to be "ironic?" Check. Backpack with company logo prominently displayed? Check.
What caught my attention was not his cadre of hipster tokens alerting the other members of the tribe that he belongs, but his earnest attempt to chat up the girl he was with.
About his work as a "coder."
Maybe I am getting old, but when did boasting about how you "code" (when did "code" become a verb?) become a strategy to attract the attention of women? Add to the mix, he mentioned how his *mom* put him on the path to computer nirvana by signing him up for computer camp back in the early '00s.
That is the sort of thing that we would try to obscure from social interactions, right after not bragging about our comic book collection abd before our dedication to our level 8 druid in Dungeons and Dragons.
So this guy "codes" all day (and apparently, well into the night - it was 10.30 PM), fuelled by Red Bull in his skinny jeans and Tab tee. He was (as many of these hipsters do) describing his thrilling life "disrupting the paradigm in the cloud," or something like that.
Dude; you don't "code." You are a programmer. You write computer programmes. At least until your job finds itself in the way of Infosys consultants.
You have a degree in computer "science." An old friend commented once that any discipline that has to put the word "science" in its title probably isn't. Chemists typically discuss their degrees in "chemistry," not "chemical science." Adding "science" is the sort of bullshit neologism that years ago magically transformed garbage men into sanitation engineers faster than you could say Ed Norton.
There is nothing wrong with programming. It's a useful, often productive job.
Backpacks are for college students. Wearing a faux vintage tee shirt doesn't make you Indiana Jones.
Put on your big boy pants and grow up.