So my pal Sandra and I are talking to two bartenders and an innocent bystander at Beauty Bar-Portland (111 SW Ash). They all look uber hip – with artfully done tattoos and at least ten less years than us. But they were NICE to us. That’s right, nice. The scars of getting kicked out of the Ace Hotel by a seething little hipster are still fresh, mind you. Here’s the thing – these guys can’t stand hipsters too. What? Not everyone shares a complete disdain of the universe. How refreshing. I had recently learned from another cool-looking young person who was NOT a hipster the following term: “Ironic mullet.” Apparently, everything about hipsters is “ironic.” That includes ironic ’70s moustache, ironic Mickey Mouse white sunglasses the size of two distant moons and ironic irony itself. The moral of the story is: Don’t judge. You may be talking to a Nipster. Fantastically cool, but not hipster.
We loved Beauty Bar, by the way. The Rosa cocktail conjures up the image that you just swigged your grandmother’s perfume, and you liked it. Here’s the best part about Beauty Bar: Portland’s central fire station is right behind the building. Don’t get too excited – there are no sand volleyball courts or shower stations, if prowling is what you’re into.