Hi, can I grab this seat next to you? This coffee shop is always so full! Wait, do I know you? You look so familiar, I just can’t put my finger on it. Oh, you’re Bill de Blasio from the ’80s! Sorry, I had you confused for every white hipster I’ve ever met. That’s your target demo, huh? That’s something.
Going to any shows this weekend, ’80s Bill de Blasio? Oh, never mind. I just saw 11 tabs on your browser open to music blogs, so I just figured …
You seem cool, ’80s Bill de Blasio; I can tell by the ratio of fixed gear bike to chest hair. Oh, wow! You have a lot of opinions on city politics and real estate. You must be a native! Oh, you moved here from New Haven last month?
If you’re interested, ’80s Bill de Blasio, my friends and I have a zine we’re working on, if you’re care about the boundaries of form. Well, I wouldn’t say regularly. We publish when we feel cultural discourse can bear it. It’s a radical intervention, you know? Of course you do. You’re in? Great!
So there’s this great beer bar up the street from–you brew your own! You’ll have to have me over to your uninsulated loft to try some some time.
Hey ’80s Bill de Blasio, you’re my kind of guy. I won’t vote for you because I won’t be born for another five years, but let’s get some coffee next week. The place down the block makes awesome espresso. This place is shit. It’s not even single-source fair trade.