Kicked Out of the Record Store
Missing my wife, spotting bald eagles, and seeing an internet celebrity's work IRL
Last week, Jenn left for a retreat, and I’ve been feeling like that one guy on the Ambien subreddit ever since.
Aside from missing Jenn, the week has been normal for the most part. Work was work and I went to the gym a lot with the extra time I had. I also cuddled with Juno quite a lot – I think he misses her too since she’s home most of the day.
I was originally not looking forward to the weekend, but I decided to have my childhood friend over and see a cover band called The Droors! For the uninitiated, they cover songs by The Doors.
It was a ton of fun and I’m really glad I went. I’m always a little hesitant about going to cover bands, especially when they’re covering such big acts like The Doors, but I think the guys did it justice! The musicians played well and the vocalist sounded just like Jim Morrison.
The next day, my childhood friend and I went to the local art museum to see Sam Barsky’s sweaters. It felt surreal to see his work since I’ve seen a lot of them before online.
Later, I went looking for ducks with my childhood friend, who is always a good luck charm on birdwatching trips.
His luck was as giving as ever. We saw some common goldeneyes, scaups, mergansers, and other stuff, but the most exciting part is we saw not one. Not two. But at least THREE bald eagles!
They swooped lazily overhead before we saw two near each other. We think they were trying to do a mating ritual but not 100% sure.
We MAY have even seen a juvenile bald eagle because we saw something we couldn’t identify, but I’m not positive on that either. I wish I had pictures to prove it, but you’re just going to have to believe me. Sorry!
Later we took a midday nap and Juno slept on my chest for a bit.
Then, after dinner, my childhood friend and I said our goodbyes and I doinked around until it was bedtime.
So a great weekend, and it ended perfectly because:
JENN’S BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The Fiction Corner
I’m at my local record store at least once a week, so you know I gotta write something about it! I pieced together a lot of different things I’ve heard about and experienced while here, so while it’s not true, it feels true to me, y’know?
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Our story today: How to Kill the Vibe at Your Record Store
Just another day at the record store.
The guy at the counter’s telling the cashier about some rare African vinyl he got and talking about his incoming big order from Discogs this month. It’s the fourth one and he’s already thinking of buying more.
A couple guys are looking at a used copy of The John Lennon collection, arguing about the track layout.
“No, ‘Happy Xmas’ should have been at the very end since the album starts with ‘Give Peace a Chance’”
“But it’s the end of side one.”
“Yeah, but no, it should have been at the end end, y’know?”
“Does it really matter?”
“To me it does.”
By the new arrivals, two old guys are talking about GG Allin. One of them claims they got to see him shit on stage and eat it in ‘89. The other guy doesn’t believe him, but he’s got no way to disprove him.
In another corner, some college kids are talking about Tyler The Creator and how he always puts a track on his physical releases that he doesn’t put on streaming. Some of them think it’s dumb and unfair while a couple others think it’s artsy and cool.
It’s just another day at the record store and the vibes are immaculate. Like a brand-new vinyl in pristine condition that plays perfectly. A CD with no scratches. A cassette that’s coiled up nice and tight and the machine won’t eat today.
That’s until the door opens and in comes Trevor with an armful of CDs he wants to sell. Now, selling is highly encouraged, but only when you’ve got legit stuff.
Unlike Trevor and his crappy bootlegs. They’re not even half-good; it’s like the guy’s not even trying to pirate properly. Plus, they're not even deep cuts, no rare finds. Just stuff by Mariah Carey or Katy Perry or something like.
To make things even worse, Trevor always reeks of cigarettes.
“Guy smokes like a fish,” the guy at the counter said once; Every time he comes in you know because you smell him before you see him.
And now Trevor’s at the counter, trying to sell his worthless junk.
The cashier has all the grace in the world, rejecting him as politely as possible and pretending like Trevor didn’t know these were bootlegs even though they’re the worst crud you’ve ever seen in your life and also pretending like he doesn’t try this at least once a month.
But Trevor, this idiot, he won’t take the hint.
“I know what I have,” Trevor says to the cashier.
“OK, but we’re not buying CDs right now.”
“I know what I have!” He screams in the cashier’s face, getting spit all over the counter.
The vibes have been crushed. The record is stuck in a groove, playing the same shit over and over again. The CD keeps skipping. And the fucking machine’s eating that cassette right up.
You can see something on the cashier’s face and you could almost swear the cashier’s getting ready to punch Trevor, but instead he calmly speaks:
“Yeah, you have some bootlegs. Now,” he says, pointing at the door, “I’m done talking with you today, so get out of my store and take your shitty CDs with you.”
Trevor just stares, first at the cashier, then at the customers now staring at him. He looks at them helplessly, swallows something (maybe his pride?) and speaks again, quietly:
“I wanna talk to the manager.”
“Well, Seth’s out right now on vacation so I am the manager. Now get the fuck out of my store!”
Trevor gawks again at the crowd, waiting for someone to come in and save him. The cashier’s glaring at him, and finally someone comes to his rescue.
“Yeah, fuck off, man!”
The voice comes from a guy with a stylish white beard and full head of hair, made all the more hip by his fitted jeans and a tie-dye Grateful Dead shirt.
At first, it seems like nothing’s going to happen, but then the rest of the crowd is in on it. They’re out for blood, sick of Trevor’s constant coming and goings. Everybody starts yelling at him and booing. The guy’s got no choice but to leave with his tail between his legs.
Just like that, the vibes are soooo back. The vinyl’s been cleaned of debris and is playing right. The CD's buffed and doesn’t skip anymore. And the cassette’s had its tape wound back in.
And now?
It’s just another day at the record store.
Any critiques/compliments/complaints? Lmk in the comments!
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