It’s the ninth most hipster city in the US, and I, with my pencil skirt and distaste for beards, am most un-hipster. Yet today Louisville, Ky. and I met for the first time, and things went okay,
We started by getting a little lost because the half marathon had blocked off several key streets, but, with hard work and some skillful maneuvering by Sarah in the driver’s seat, we made it to Spinelli’s Pizzeria, on Baxter Ave. It was a heaven of the weird and awesome, from the blue-haired waitress who forgot our straws to the comic book-cover wall above us and the mishmash of music played. The giant slice of pizza wasn’t bad, either.
What was bad was finding out, a few hours later, that I had been overcharged by $10 (more than double what I was supposed to be charged). Inclined at first to follow my instincts and ignore it, I finally gathered my courage and called the restaurant, because hey…money is in short supply these days, I can’t just be throwing it away hither and thither. After some restaurant shuffle, I was talking to a manager with the power to help me out.
His first comment? “It shouldn’t even show up in your bank statement yet.” Well, I don’t know what your bank is, but mine is nice and likes to make sure I know what my money is doing, so charges show up immediately. I finally got him to take me seriously. He double-checked to make sure I was telling the truth–a move I applauded–told me he would change it, then leaned away from the phone and yelled into the distance, “This is why I hate being a manager!”
Rude. Let’s remember, guys, that I’m not the one who made the mistake in the first place. So, Mr. Manager, if you should ever read this, know that, well, I think you’re dumb. (I’m sure that will smart).
After the unfortunate Spinelli’s incident, things did get better. Sarah took me Bardstowning, which is apparently what the locals call walking the hipster side of Bardstown Road and checking out all the shops. There were some to-die-for consignment shops with lovely dresses that were all too expensive–except the Target dress I bought for Highbridge for less than $10. What a steal.
I visited Urban Attic, a super hip consignment shop where the clothes were adorable and everything felt just a little out of my cool league. Then we went to Acorn, where Sarah bought an adorable vintage owl mug and the cashier was down-to-earth, friendly and sassy, all at the same time. We checked out Why Louisville, possibly the greatest tourist trap gift shop to exist, with its wall of A-plus t-shirts and A Christmas Story replica lamp.
Finally, to end the day, we went to Sarah’s aunt’s house for Easter dinner. From playing with Barbies with her younger cousins to running through the grass for the Easter egg hunt, it was definitely a memorable Easter.
So there it is. I made acquaintance with part of Louisville and, though we didn’t see eye to eye on everything, we shook hands and declared mutual (at least, I hope it’s mutual) appreciation for the other. I can now cross “visit the ninth most hipster town in America” off my bucket list.