We are so totally hypocritical. We bitch and whine about how people are so arbitrarily judgmental, lumping folks into various pat categories with barely a glance. But we do the same thing. Case in point: the crowd at upscale downtown St. Pete tavern The Independent. We used to go there when it first opened. Then we overheard some idiot hitting on a blonde girl, mispronouncing the names of various imported beers while spouting reams of misinformation about the brewing process, and we decided then and there that we were never going back. We’re sure that plenty of the affluent folks drinking at the Independent and superficially resembling the aforementioned cretin are smart, friendly human beings, and wholly worth knowing. But then again, a lot of them actually refer to themselves as “Indies,” so maybe we’ll just keep on drinking at dive bars, with only our spiteful, deeply contradictory personality to keep us company.
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