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Fri 5th Nov : Losing Popularity

The Lady had gone out with a friend from work, Stuart, so I took the opportunity to see the guys, have a small adventure in Williamsburg.

After a few minutes of rolling around the floor of the bowels of a hipster pub on the corner of a once-derelict street, Andrew finally stopped wrestling me and said, "You've been warned." Andrew's girlfriend had discovered my blog. The gentle cleaning of the floor with my back was a friendly way to tell me not to write about him again - how dare I write that he's the sort of guy who blushes in front of ladies.

Bill USA and Anthony chuckle. Samuel asks, "Why don't you ever write about me?"

Williamsburg is one of those places you want to go out in more often but when you finally get yourself over on the L you think to yourself, "Yeah, it's got some edge. Yeah, it's different. But I wouldn't come here every week."

Part of the reason for this is that there's only a few bars and part is due to a pretty sizable mix of tourists in from Manhattan.

We ended up in a pretty decent bar on North 8th - Supreme Trading - large affair, decent music and by that time we were buzzing. As the crowd packed the bar a tall Japanese guy with tale-tale signs of 'I'm so hip it hurts' pranced around the bar taking pictures of anyone he deemed glamorous. That didn't mean us - though we asked. We obviously weren't good enough for his digi-cam. But a decent dose of paranoia makes you think, why? Are we too old? We are thirty somethings. Are we not hip for Williamsburg? We are a scruffy mix of British fash-designers and an ad boy - maybe those 2 years of surviving on nothing is beginning to show in my threadbare garments. Are we too noisy? Yes. Do we care? No. Who's getting the round in, anyway?

Maybe all this I'm A Celebrity culture makes us feel that it is our right to be superstars and be snapped at by paparazzi all night.

Is this the long decent into unpopularity mirrored by age?

At Iona's for one last one the Scot behind the bar actually doesn't hate me because I'm English tonight. The boys are here but obviously I can't report that Andrew was. The barman analyzes my situation for me as he tops off the Stella: "A healthy dose of reality is good for the ego. You are losing the few friends you have due to the this blog thing you write. But at least you are getting a reaction - and at the end of the day, maybe that's all that matters."

November 5, 2004 in Diary | Permalink


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