Hipster? Bank robber? Or both?

Dear Hipster:

I have deduced your secret identity. I’ll bet you thought you could hide behind your column inches, but you can fool us no longer. You’re the hipster bandit! It was a good ruse for a while, distracting the general public with your anti-mainstream shenanigans, but the jig is up, DJ. However, being a fair man, I’ll make you a deal. If you come quietly, I’ll share some of the reward money with you when your sentence is up.

— Bill J., North County

Scandalous! What kind of a world are we living in where any bank robber with a set of dark shades can pass for a hipster? I ask you, does the hipster bandit demand to be paid in non-mainstream denominations (e.g., two-dollar bills and Susan B. Anthony coins)? Does he pass his demands to the teller hand-calligraphed with sustainable ink on recycled paper? Does he maintain an Instagram account where spherical burlap loot bags — each one tied with twine and bearing a double-slashed dollar sign worthy of Scrooge McDuck — pose nobly before sweeping mountain vistas and placid streams #nofilter?

I think not.

My biggest crimes involved torrenting music that you’ve probably never heard of, and that one time I gave my little cousin Marlo a sip or three of an Alpine Nelson at a family cookout (which, by the way, she said tasted like the fruit salad her mom accidentally left in the car during a trip to Disneyland... I think we have a beer sommelier in the family).

On the off chance that they catch the guy before this goes to print, let the record show that I was into my own innocence way before it was cool.