How many bars does one Yuppie need?

At the beginning of each December for the last few years, I've travelled up to Nordeast Minneapolis -- the Polish neighborhood in Minneapolis -- to Eva's Delicatessen to buy many of the things I'll use to make our Christmas Eve dinner. Aside from the fact that I can find herring, mushrooms, horseradish, pickled beets, mustard and sauerkraut imported from Poland, each time I walked into the store it felt like I'd stepped into my grandmother's kitchen when I was a kid. As the door opened I'd be greeted by the delicious aromas of kielbasa and cabbage. I could taste the delicious golabkis my grandmother made, the soups, the sauerkraut and the sausages, all of them cooked to perfection so that they melted on your tongue.

Today I took my annual trip to Eva's to find the store blinds drawn, brown paper covering the bottom of the windows. Plastered to the door were a half-dozen notices announcing permits for remodeling and sign declaring that this was the future sight of yet another yuppie bar -- the NE Social Club.

Goddamn, fucking yuppies.