Holden Caulfield, Casual Hipster

Holden Caulfield walks into a bar. The bar is around the corner from his apartment in the trendy - but not too trendy -- Williamsburg part of Brooklyn. The pub's menu offers pages of quality whiskeys and pale ales from places so sophisticated that they simply cannot be pronounced. Descriptions to the in-house drinks offer adjectives like, "brewed" and "hoppy." There is a caricature lining the bottom of each page of a man who looks like one of those butler figures, with a towel draped over an arm, an over-sized serving tray in the other. You know, it's the kind they sell in one of those Sky Mall magazines that nobody ever buys. Phony butler's nose is pointed at the tiny text above, as if sniffing out the barley from the oats. Or perhaps, he is sniffing out the people inside of the bar itself. The bar is essentially pretentious -- but not too pretentious; just enough to pique Holden's interest. Hell, he wouldn't have stepped out if it wasn't for this Gatsby character he had arranged to meet with.