Scenesters
After realizing I had been ditched by the only person I know in Jacksonville, I decided to venture out on my own tonight. Something with which, as many of you know, I have never had any qualms. So I headed downtown to The Landing because I read on the Internet that there was a good live music scene there. It was a big blow to my faith in the age old theory "if it's on the Internet it must be true" when I got there to see the crowd was scant and the band was lame. I asked an unusually attractive female bartender (I say "unusual" because most everyone else there was pretty ugly) what there was to do in Jacksonville.

"What kind of person are you?" she asked.

"Depends on the night," I said.

She started listing some things off and I eventually got to live music. She told about an area with classic rock and an area with punk and indie that generally had a younger crowd. I decided to go check out Jacksonville's indie scene. Ugh! I forgot how much I hate scenesters. I thought I knew some indie fucks, but christ... I think what's most annoying about these people that you don't even have to talk to them to figure out how pretentious and pompous they are. They practically embed it into their fashion. Perhaps I should have known better than to show up at this indie punk bar in my all black attire complete with baggy jeans and t-shirt and my North Face jacket draped around me. I'm sure when I pulled back my sleeve for the bouncer to put the multi-colored paper bracelet that looked like something out of a gay-pride parade on me I didn't earn any points by revealing the complete lack of scars on my wrist. Then there was my short, tight, sell-out haircut that screamed "military!" to contend with. I should have expected some of the awkward/dirty looks I received. This isn't to say that the place was completely full of douche bags. I'm sure there were some nice people in there but I didn't exert any effort trying to find them. The band was trying way too hard and didn't play any original material so far as I could tell but the people seemed to love the music. By "seemed to" I mean they all were just kind of standing around, some bobbing their heads. They probably didn't want perspiration to mess up their methodical make-up jobs. I had the following text conversation with my buddy Mike and it cheered me up:

Me: Jacksonville's indie scene sucks balls.

Mike: So?

Me: Just letting you know... Just in case you ever find yourself stranded here.

Mike: The skinny leg jeans are impossible to find there.

Me: Could have fooled me. I was talking about the music but the fashion is lame too.

Mike: I'd head to the beaches it is florida after all even if it's balls cold i'd get some cred.

Me: I think I'll head to starbucks instead. Better than hanging around a bunch of scenester jerks I don't know.

Mike: Oh come on you just have to tell them you've heard music that hasn't even been made yet.

I burst out laughing in the middle of Starbucks at the last comment. It kind of made my night. Sad, I know. I'm pretty optimistic about these sorts of situations because I generally love all new experiences. But I never like getting ditched on a Friday night when I don't know anyone in town. That's just fucking lame.

For clarification, I have no problems with indie music. I like it. I like a wide variety of music and I like not being pompous about it.