Slow night, I’m going over and pricing a giant stack of records. They are musty but not moldy. Still they make me sneeze. A couple was shopping, they appeared to be a combination of comic book nerd and record geek. I know the look and the slightly too loud conversation, because I too am nerd. These guys added another layer of insipid goofiness that I frankly wasn’t buying. They were full of life, I was full of anti-life. Teeth grindingly so. The music that was playing ended, it was dead silence until the next selection was put on. Dead silence in a regular store is uncomfortable, in a record store it’s like a depressing hipster tomb. All I could hear was this guy jabbering.
–”Blink 182-Dude Ranch…I was into these guys before anyone else was…really.”
(While looking at a 12” single for the Jetsons theme song from the Televisions Greatest Hits album) ”Televisions Greatest Hits?…I had this record…wait a second…I’m sorry, the Jetsons song is not televisions greatest hit…ninety nine cents? ..no thank you.”
(to his girlfriend) “remember that song (sings) Does your store have any Mojo Nixon? If not it could use some fixin’…(looks at me) Does your store have any Mojo Nixon?……”
ME “……………..(wait for it)…………………..no…we had some and nobody bought ‘em so we sent ‘em back..”
“…then your store could (trailing off)…use some fixin’”
“Man, these guys don’t have any used Jawbox records, that’s what I want…(looking at ELP-Brain Salad Surgery)..who’s Brian Salad Surgery?weird….Billy Joel are you gonna knock my socks off? (picking up Billy Joel-52nd Street)…no..you’re…not..This isn’t the good one…How about you Billy Squier?…”
I went and got a coffee and felt like saurbraten.