City Sip

The word hip is about as bad and overused as the word postmodern used to be, but I'm going to use it anyway. You see, I went to the (self-described) hip City Sip in Echo Park last night and it was trying so hard to be with it, that it fell completely flat. It was uncomfortably quiet and the whole experience felt stilted. The dudes pouring need to be more animated and please, learn something about the wines you are offering! Don't just read notes from the menu! At times it looked like they were about to say something, er, friendly, but then the cat must have gotten their tongues. They were extras in their own show and they made us feel weird. Not that we aren't weird already, but weirder, as in having a hard time getting into a conversational flow. My frizzante Rose was sugary sweet and when I mentioned it to the guy who gave of owner vibes he said: 'well, it's an acquired taste.' I wanted to say, dude, no one in their right mind will ever acquire a taste for this sparkling syrup, but instead we paid our bill, left, and went to Sgt. Recruiter were we had oodles of fun.