For the last few years, I've meant to head out to Ft. Tilden, a former military base turned park in the Far Rockaways section of Queens.  A friend at work highly recommended it.  I finally semi-made it there today with Husband and some friends. 

Since my preferred method of travel, subway and/or bus, would have taken us about 2 hours, we decided to drive.  The park website had car directions, but when we arrived, we learned there was no parking without a permit in the summer.  Then, after ditching Augustus Gloop (our car) at the parking lot for neighboring Jacob Riis and walking along the concrete boardwalk back to Ft. Tilden park, we learned you cannot have a picnic there without a permit halfway through our picnic.  (The ranger let us finish, though.)

As came back from the trash after cleaning up, I passed by a woman sitting under a tree to my right.

"Hey hipster!  Go to the beach," she hissed.

I looked behind me to see who she was talking to.  There was no one there.  I looked to my left.  Also no one there.  I looked back at her.  She had a straw hat pulled over her face so I could not see who she was looking at.

"Hey hipster!" She hissed again.  "Go to the beach!"

I realized that she was directing her comment to me.  This made me want to laugh, as I am about as close to a hipster as Snooki to a Greek scholar.  I wondered if she thought of all white people as hipsters, although I thought she was white, too.  She hissed at me a third time.  Then I felt awkward and weirded out.

The day was not a total bust, though.  After having our picnic rushed, not being able to use the hiking trail with the cool wood stairs, and being called a hipster, we headed over to the nearby Jamaica Bay Wildlife Refuge.  It was gorgeous and not even the osprey circling the air seemed to mind our presence.  Or maybe birds of prey like fake hipsters.

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