I Hate Me, part 632,007
It was Sunday 5pm, we were closing up, half the lights were off and we were locking the doors. A large guy steamed in, trailed by 3 toddlers and his wife.
“We’re closing up now sir, if we can help you find something…”
“I know what I want. I wanna pre-order the new Metallica”
“I’m sorry, we don’t do pre-orders and it’s not in our computer yet but I know we’ll have a bunch of the album, were you looking for a special edition box set or the LP version?”
“No…none of that shit, just the regular cd”
“OK, We’ll have a lot so, give us a call and we’ll hold one for you”
Meanwhile his kids are upstairs in the sheet music department beating on the display ukulele’s
“we want a tiny guitar!, we want a tiny guitar!”
“You got tiny guitars!…an you don’t play ‘em!”
“If there’s anything else I can help you with because we’re closing up now”
He’s scrolling the photos on his phone
“…yeah…just wait…yeah….yeah…..it’s here somewhere…..yeah….”
“yeah, hey lookout this…”
It’s a blurry photo of the guy standing with another guy, who I guess is some rock guy but I don’t know who he is, he just looks like a regular shlub.
“Ya know who that is right?”
Then thankfully his wife piped in
“We gotta go…the baby”
“Good picture…right bro?”
and then they were gone and the long national nightmare was over.