So the other day a group of us decided to go out for some drinks. One friend wanted to go to Greenside, as he had just recently moved to Joburg and wanted to say he had hung out there. So off we went. Firstly parking is insane, we ended up parking about 2 km’s away from the spot. The car guards were in heaven and I bet some residents were not. Everyone was using their driveways and lawns as parking.
After our Groot Trek from the car to the venue, we were stopped and the bouncers asked for our IDs. At 27 I can’t remember the last time that I was asked to prove that yes, I am in fact over 18 and allowed to consume liquor. Mamma’s Shebeen is as the name suggests a shebeen. But I use the term shebeen loosely. Firstly although it is decorated to scream shebeen, having myself once been to a shebeen (We were in The Berg, the bar had closed at 7, so we decided to take matters into our own hands) it is not authentic. I will call is pseudo-shebeen decor.
We headed straight to the bar. The place has a very cozy and chilled vibe to it and the highlight for us while standing at the bar waiting for our drinks, was the magic breathalizer box behind us. You take a tube, attach it to the machine, blow into it and it will tell you how drunk you are. There are however several warnings that it might not be the most accurate of readings, so use it at your own peril.
After waiting for a bit, the bar was rather busy, I got my drink. My kind sibling said she would get this round and surprise, surprise, a cider will set you back almost R30. As one member of our group commented “Looks like a shebeen, but definitely not shebeen prices”.
Eventually we got a seat outside and then the fun started. One member of the group, who shall not be named, did not know what a hipster was. Well lucky for him/her, we were surrounded. And so our hipster spotting began. It was like a hipster parade, each modeling their style on the pavement.
We went with the tight pants, perfectly styled hoodies (that doesn’t just happen), ironic T-shirts (Mickey Mouse seemed popular on that particular night), what I call a side mullet (long on the right, shaved on the left), shades (even though the sun had left us a couple of hours ago), glasses sans lenses, and a lot of girls seemed to be wearing what gran had worn when she was young. The highlight of the night was when the individual who shall remain nameless, finally understood what a hipster was and just started starting at a particular specimen. The look of “wtf” on his face was priceless.
So in a nutshell like most places when you go out, what makes them awesome is the company. And this was a good night out. You should go to there. And make sure you dress the part.
If you like some poor unfortunate souls, do not know what a hipster is, would like to spot on or even become one, here are some links that can help you on your way.
How to be a Hipster How to spot a Hipster: A Billion Tiny Pieces