Hipsters

There are very few places in life where you can go, look around to people watch and in return feel a sense of 'I'm more than OK'. These place include but are not limited toDisneyland, Targets 'non-designer' section,  Planned Parenthoods, and new to the list: The Chelsea Room, as UrbanDaddy.com describes is "a new nightclub inside the bowels of the old rock-and-roll funhouse that is the Hotel Chelsea, the place where Jimi Hendrix used to howl off the fire escape at three in the morning." While I can agree that the Chelsea Room was in the bowels of something, whether Jimi was screaming because he saw The Chelsea Room's crowd or not, they are the reason that I went home. 

Let me preface this by saying that The Hotel Chelsea, and subsequently The Chelsea Room, is conveniently next to Gotham Comedy Club. After finishing an audition set at Gotham to secure a gig as the warm up for a TV show; I needed to celebrate, commiserate, and unwind. As only one of the five friends who assured me they were coming actually showed up, I was at the mercy of my friend Isabel,  who is consistently on the prowl. This being said my first choice of the venue to the left of Gotham, Jakes Saloon, was out. Jakes is known for their chicken wings and therefore men who believe its appropriate to publicly eat them,... I think enough has been said. This leaves only the choice to Gotham's right;  the new nightclub in the bowels of the old rock-and-roll house that is the Hotel Chelsea.

Upon arriving at The Chelsea Rooms red-velvet ropes, I had a feeling this would be an absolute disaster-piece. Call it woman's intuition or the large majority of plaid shirts smoking cigarettes outside it's heavily guarded door; in places where entering requires a double-shampoo shower once home, I usually don't 'fit in'. There was no line to enter so my ego wasn't effected until we were ID'ed and asked who we were there for. Apparently the answer of 'I'm here for my friend Isabel", and her response of "I'm here for myself" was not going to cut it. After being briefed about some 'private party for fashion week', luckily there was a lovely man behind us who spoke up, and spoke for us; "I'm with Elenora's list, and there are three of us", signaling to himself, Isabel and I.  Upon entering however, the only list that belonged there was Schindlers. Everyone in the room looked either hungry, miserable or both. Isabel optimistically described the crowd as Hipsters and Models,... I will  honestly  describe the crowd as Hipsters andHipsters.  There were men the size of boys, women the shape of boys and all of whomfelt they lost out when they didn't score the cover of Prozac Nation, mainly because that gig would have been perfect for all of them.

In the bathroom, after befriending attendant Solomon, Solomon sneezed. My natural instinct said 'Bless You', to which my sink-neighbor to my left, scoffed at me while giving the evil eye and declared "you know, that is a really rude thing to say. I don't dictate you're beliefs - don't throw yours onto mine". Sir, first off, you didn't sneeze. I wasn't, nor would I, bless you; I was blessing Solomon, my new Nigerian friend. You on the other hand are wearing a wool scarf indoors,... if you think I'm going to even going to take a gander at the things you most likely believe in, I've already seen Matt Lauer and Tom Cruise go at it. Furthermore, the fact that you can stand next to another human who just sneezed and say nothing, puts you in a list of people I wouldn't spit on if they were on fire. At this point, he informs me that he is very big in the fashion world, to which I inform him "that's great, because you're probably not big anywhere else" while gesturing to his groin, at which point, it was time for me to go home.

Wasser: 1, Hipsters: 0. I may wear skinny jeans, but at least my head isn't so much larger than my waist that I think thin mustaches are cool, bathroom attendants aren't people or that an increased credit line at Urban Outfitters makes me "Big in the fashion world". Goodbye, good riddance, and goodnight. Jimi, you are now not the only one howling over the Chelsea Hotel.