1)Middle aged crazy woman looking through used LP’s. “Jeff Beck…he’s a jew AND he’s sober” and a little later,
Woman: I love the Grateful Dead, loooove ‘em…I seen ‘em fifty times……(seeing an Ian Hunter record)..Ian Hunter…he’s in the Dead, right?
Me: No he wa..
Woman: (Interrupting) Jethro Tull, he was in Jethro Tull..
Me: No he..
Woman: (interrupting)..Grateful Dead?
Me: NO h..
Woman: (Interrupting)..Gotta be Jethro Tull
Me:Jesus, NO..He was in Mott the Hoople… you’re thinking of Robert Hunter, he wrote songs for the Dead
Woman: Noooooo…I know who he is…Ian his brother was in the Dead
Me:…Really…I didn’t know that……..we’re closing up in a couple of minutes
2)Saturday morning, a thirty-ish guy, gangly, receding blonde curly hair, wearing headphones held onto his head by a headband, he looked like a grizzled veteran of a psychic drug war. He was singing Queen-You’re My Best Friend pretty loudly but at a dirge like pace, “You’re my best friend, oooh you make me live” He started looking through records and adding what he was looking at to his singing, “You’re my best friend Culture Club and Boy George ” and “oooh you make me live, Commodores, and cause you’re my best friend I wanna buy you a brick house”. He eventually worked his way through the alphabet and out the back door….and into my heart.