They storm the Co-op on a daily basis with their recycled grocery bags, attempt to sell bad art for outrageous amounts of money and cling to their stainless steel water bottles with an adoration fervent enough to rival that of Gollum with his Precious. What could they be?
Only the recently rampant species that Christian Lander brilliantly describes in his book, “Stuff White People Like.” Or, as my sister and I call them, Chacos. This name, for those of you fortunate enough to have avoided an encounter with them, is in reference to the shoes they proudly wear in all seasons (sometimes, God forbid, with socks).
I have never had a problem with any group of people before, but this particular one removes chunks of my sanity on a daily basis. Every time I have walked to campus this year, I have received scornful once-over looks from individuals on bikes, with their jean cuffs rolled up to reveal their exceedingly unique choice of footwear – Danskos, Chacos or (on the more aged ones) Birkenstocks. Does it displease you that I am wearing a coat and boots that happen to be much warmer and more comfortable than your shoes? Well guess what? They cost me a fraction of what your Patagonia jacket cost you. Stop pretending to preach universal acceptance if you are going to judge people who aren’t like you.
Stop trying to run me over on Main Street in your Subaru Outback while on your cell phone. I don’t care if you are late for yoga, you need to obey traffic laws as well. And guess what? You aren’t the only one with that piercing, and you AREN’T a hipster or a hippy. Those only exist in cities.