I Hate Me, part 413,900

 

(prologue, foreshadowing) I have a annoying/great air horn app on my phone, it’s great for interrupting people (you’ve gone on too long, “MAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!”) and just generally being annoying.

I was grabbing lunch at Whole Foods (Mac & Cheese: each piece of macaroni was hand crafted on a tiny macaroni lathe and the cheese was sourced at a dairy farm partially owned by the cows) and was eating at one of the tables in the store. I had finished and went to throw out my garbage. I’m somewhat lazy when it comes to recycling. There wasn’t any cans or bottles in my trash but I know if I did a little more research on the all the materials that made up the trash I would’ve/should’ve separated them better. There was a couple of middle aged hipster types (high maintenance facial hair, nerd glasses) chatting right by the garbage. I had my phone out while I was eating and had it in my hand as I was mashing everything into the general garbage can. I don’t know how it happened but I hit the air horn app and dropped the phone with the garbage into the can at the same time. MAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!. The people who were chatting shot me a look, “uurhh… heh…must be a recycling…or garbage alarm”. Dead eye look, building into annoyed glare, back to chatting. I pulled out the can and fished out my phone. I wanted to slink out but since I just stuck my hand in garbage I went and washed my hands and cleaned my phone and then slunk out.

now in convenient phone version

now in convenient phone version

I Hate Me, part 466,827

Older guy steams in, very animated but seemingly normal. His socks, the color of a traffic cone should have been a tip off.
“I got a tape sitting up front for me that I ordered but I got a question, there’s a song called Black Butterfly by Deniece Williams, do you have it…she’s black”
“…let me check”
As I’m looking up to see what album it’s on and it’s availability, he lets out a deep satisfied sigh and slaps his belly
“yeahhpp, I got all the good tapes…all kinds of music…I even got Springsteen…I knew him when he used to play on the rocks in Long Branch and nobody cared…now look at him…he’s famous…”
“Sorry but we don’t have any Deniece Williams in stock, that song is on a greatest hits cd that I can order in for you”
“Ok fine…so you’ll order that tape for me it for me?”
“yup, it’s a cd not a tape, I just need your name and number”
which he proceded to do
“Ok.. that should be about a week, we’ll give you a call”
“Fine, now can you show me where her tapes..uh cd’s are, I wanna see if it’s on anything else”
“……..I’m sorry, maybe you misunderstood me…we don’t have any Deniece Williams cd’s in stock…none in the store…nothing by her at all…”
dead look
“just show me where her section is…I wanna check.”
“well…like I’ve been saying we don’t have any…if we had it, I would sell it to you because that would be easier for both of us… I wouldn’t have to order it”
dead look
“but where do you file it”
“W soul, over there”
two minutes later
“yeah, you don’t have it”
“…really?, that’s surprising”
“sooooooo….you’ll order it?
I nodded yes, then went into the stock room and screamed into my arm

should have been a tip off

should have been a tip off

Album Inserts: Mostly Bee Gees edition

A few more inserts found in trashed LP’s at work, most of these are Bee Gees related [click on image to enlarge]
insertsbege1
insertsbege2
inserts bege3
insertsbebge4
insertsbege5
insertsbege6

Sunday Music 9/28/14

Original Golden Stars-Nobody’s Fault but Mine

I don’t know much about this song but I got it from a sampler of an upcoming box set The Soul of Designer Records (Big Legal Mess). Really good old rocking soul/gospel ala the early Staple Singers.

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I Hate Me, 438,911

 

Busy day, waiting to go out for coffee. This weird little middle aged guy in shorts and a half shirt came in with a small stack of records. For the most part they were beat to shit but he had a couple of decent ones. He was describing each one before he gave it to me, he handed me a Beach Boys-Greatest Hits
“Here’s one, the fuckin’ Beatles, this gottttta be worth a buck, right?
“That’s The Beach Boys, man and it’s pretty scratched up”
“No, man that’s the fuckin’ Beatles. It’s got some old weed in it and shit but it’s a good one…it’ll play.”
“Yeah, no. It’s way too scratchy and it ain’t the Beatles”
He gave me a palm up shrug, with a smirk (you win this battle)
“How about this one, fuckin’ Cheech and Chong- Big Bambu, you know this one right?”
“Yeah, but it’s only really worth anything if it has the giant rolling paper in it”
“No man, it don’t…I lent this to my ex…and she probably took it…you know how that shit goes…Oh, and it’s scratched up”
yeah, man you’re not really selling me on it.”
“really? ”
We settled on a price for the ones I wanted and I went out for coffee. I saw the guy as I was going into Starbucks, “Hey record dude, coffee. Yeah!”

...and it's scratched

…and it’s scratched

 

I Hate Me, part 497,451

 

We have an old tree on the side of the driveway, the branches hang over the car. I’m not sure what kind of tree it is, I refer to it as a Shitberry tree. Although I never see any birds on it whatever part of the car is parked under it is covered in industrial strength bird shit and pine(?) needles. I usually don’t notice how bad it is until I get where I’m going, then it’s windex, paper towels and a strong resolve. Unless I’m lazy, which is often, then I just look at it, droop my shoulders and shuffle off to whatever task I’m on. This latest task was Foodtown. I went in, got the few items I had to get and headed to the checkout. There was only two open, one was the normal and one was 20 items or less. There was a woman who was in the 20 items or less that had a huge amount of stuff, well over 20 items. All of it seemed to be fruits, vegetables or bulk food. So there were just little bags and little bags and little bags of items that all had to be identified and weighed. The regular checkout had a long line of people who seemed to be stocking up for the apocalypse. I stood there ruminating on the life choices that had brought me to this spot when an outraged little old lady, who looked like Nancy Reagan with an even bigger head pointed at the woman who had more than 20 items, and shrieked in a surprisingly loud voice “look at her! She can’t count!” to no one in particular. it looked like something that the aliens in Invasion of The Body Snatchers would do. The woman who was working the courtesy desk took pity on me and rang me up. She looked at what what was going on shook her head and said “Must be a full moon.”

"look at her! She can't count!"

“look at her! She can’t count!”

I Hate Me, part 446,186

It was a slow day at work until about fifteen minutes before Matt left for the day. It seemed like the bus from crazytown (not the band) made an unscheduled stop, which it often does. A woman was asking for a ton of different cd’s, most of it was late 90’s metal and soul. She was asking for them in half song titles and misheard lyrics but no band names. I would show her a section she was looking for and before I could turn around, she would be asking another question from a different part of the store. It had the vibe of one of those Japanese horror movies where there are people who crawl out of TV sets, swivel their heads and crawl on the wall. While this was going on another guy was asking if I was going to see Steely Dan at the Count Basie, I wasn’t. He wasn’t either but…”Yeah, I paid $50 to see Andrew Dice Clay there and it was great, he still got it…about 100 women walked out…yeah he still got it. He did new stuff but he didn’t do any nursery rhymes…so when he was done, I ran up front and yelled NURSERY RHYMES, MOTHERFUCKER! and he turned around, looked at me and he did all the nursery rhymes…yeah, he’s like Bob Dylan…nobody wants to hear your new shit, dude. They wanna hear the old stuff…the stuff that made you great.” The 90’s metal/soul woman was there for another hour but bought a few cd’s.

he's like Bob Dylan

he’s like Bob Dylan

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