The NYC blogosphere has its panties in a bunch about a Starbucks opening on the
Lower East Side. From
Spinach Dip to
Curbed to
Gawker (and others I’m sure I missed), the “hipsters” are crying in their soy lattes that their sacred space is about to be invaded by, egad, over-roasted coffee. Okay, some of the fulminating is supposed to be “ironic,” but you know, there’s a little truth in every “joke.” All the more reason I’m so glad to be living in the East Village where – and this is NOT meant to be ironic – the hipster bubble long ago burst and now it’s just a downtown neighborhood with some musicians, some artists, some old Chinese and Ukrainian ladies, some families, some freaks and some Midwestern girl-next-door types. (Okay, so they’re tattooed and body-pierced heteroflexible Midwestern girls, but I digress.) The ‘70s writer/drug scene, the ‘80s art/drug scene, the ‘90s music/drug scene – much of it migrated to Billyburg, the LES and elsewhere, leaving the rest of us to just live here, chat with the falafel guy next door who signs for our FedEx packages, and ignore at will the three Starbucks in our midst. See, the EVil survived the hipsters AND the Starbucks, and now we just hang out at
Mud Cafe, the friendliest, most unpretentious neighborhood coffee
joint (and
truck) this side of the Mississippi. So relax, kids. Morons who talk about
leaving the LES because of Starbucks – which is going to serve tourists who consequently won’t be taking up precious seats at
Ini Ani -- won’t be missed.
