I get on and off of the L train everyday and make the half mile trek down Bedford Avenue in Brooklyn. Since moving to New York, with all its freaks and noises and things that could provoke anxiety in a small town Massachusetts girl, this walk has become the most nerve wracking part of my day.

Bedford Avenue, or the hipster catwalk, is the main drag down oh so trendy Williamsburg. I try to stare straight ahead and smoke a cigarette as soon as I get off of the train, but inevitably some hipster catches my eye and throws me a dirty look. I can’t help but stare back because I wonder how long it took him to squeeze into those pants.

Generally, the guys are the size of one of my legs, and the girls are even smaller. The jeans are always straightlegged, and always so tight that I wonder how movement or blood circulation to the genitals is even possible. The shirts are always of some kind of vintage quality, preferably V-necked, the hair is done messily but with oh so much care. I wonder if they know how ridiculous they look, but then I’m the outcast in Billyburg.

A video on You Tube called “The Hipster Olympics” has been making it’s way around for a little while now. What makes it so funny is the utter truth it tells about the hipster community. They will and do judge you to the point where even the most secure among us, can feel shamed as they make their way down Bedford.

Then I walk past McCarren Park, which is a beautiful park, but is difficult to sit in on a nice day when hundreds of hipsters take the place over. Some of them like to go running but they do so in full hipster regalia, knee socks and head band included.

The best way I’ve found to look conspicuous in Williamsburg is to wear general non-discript clothing, i.e. a t-shirt and jeans. Sometimes I can get away with this, but the hipster’s can smell when there is an invader. I am an alien on their turf, I work for “the man,” I like to eat, and I refuse to spend 34 dollars on a t-shirt from American Apparel.

I moved to Brooklyn to get out of Massachusetts, but now I think moving to Manhattan might be my best course of action.

I’m such a sell-out.