(no subject)
Who: Dylan Hurst [The Miller's Son] and OPEN
When: Wednesday evening, between 7:00 and 8:00 PM
Where: "Other Records", Greenwich Village
What: It's a random meeting! Or something similar, in any case.
Rating: Probably PG-13 for language
Other Records closed in a little over an hour and Dylan was currently the only employee in the store. Normally this wouldn't be the case, but his co-worker, Bryce, had ducked out early claiming he had a hot date. Being that Dylan's own romantic landscape was about as fruitful as the Sahara, he couldn't begrudge the guy's desire to blow off work in favor of a cute chick. And he figured he could live vicariously through Bryce's possibly true description of his dating exploits the following afternoon when they were both on the clock again.
It didn't matter in any case, the store was dead, dead, dead. There'd only been two customers since seven, one of which had come in to pick up a special order and the other who'd browsed for about ten minutes before shaking his head and walking out. Probably down the block to Tower and good riddance to him. Dylan had rolled his eyes, propped his feet up on the counter and opened the latest issue of The Deli. He'd read for nearly twenty minutes in silence, other than the pleasant roil and crunch of Islands "Return to the Sea" playing over the speaker system, when the tinkle of the bell attached to the door signaled the arrival of another customer.
When: Wednesday evening, between 7:00 and 8:00 PM
Where: "Other Records", Greenwich Village
What: It's a random meeting! Or something similar, in any case.
Rating: Probably PG-13 for language
Other Records closed in a little over an hour and Dylan was currently the only employee in the store. Normally this wouldn't be the case, but his co-worker, Bryce, had ducked out early claiming he had a hot date. Being that Dylan's own romantic landscape was about as fruitful as the Sahara, he couldn't begrudge the guy's desire to blow off work in favor of a cute chick. And he figured he could live vicariously through Bryce's possibly true description of his dating exploits the following afternoon when they were both on the clock again.
It didn't matter in any case, the store was dead, dead, dead. There'd only been two customers since seven, one of which had come in to pick up a special order and the other who'd browsed for about ten minutes before shaking his head and walking out. Probably down the block to Tower and good riddance to him. Dylan had rolled his eyes, propped his feet up on the counter and opened the latest issue of The Deli. He'd read for nearly twenty minutes in silence, other than the pleasant roil and crunch of Islands "Return to the Sea" playing over the speaker system, when the tinkle of the bell attached to the door signaled the arrival of another customer.