(no subject)
i seem to have made a new friend at the oakland fleamarket. he is a middle-aged latino man who was excited to spy me looking through psychedelic records. he raved about the doors, and i politely responded until he left me alone. two weeks later, he found me again, and asked how my collection was going. he recommended that i transfer everything onto cassette. he said he learned english by listening to the animals. "you know 'house of the rising sun'? yeah, that's a good one."
i drove to work afterwards behind an immense vintage car. a tiny white-haired woman was behind the wheel, and i felt confident that she must have driven the same car off the lot forty-five years ago, although now she is smaller and the car's blue has faded. she wore a plastic purple sun visor, and her companion wore one in orange. it was amazing.
towards the end of my shift at work, a guy started harrassing me about the pez dispenser collection. i limited my responses to "ok" or "no" or "oh?" after saying the price was killing him, he signed the credit card receipt, and he admitted to me, "you're a good kid." i wasn't sure what to think.
i drove to work afterwards behind an immense vintage car. a tiny white-haired woman was behind the wheel, and i felt confident that she must have driven the same car off the lot forty-five years ago, although now she is smaller and the car's blue has faded. she wore a plastic purple sun visor, and her companion wore one in orange. it was amazing.
towards the end of my shift at work, a guy started harrassing me about the pez dispenser collection. i limited my responses to "ok" or "no" or "oh?" after saying the price was killing him, he signed the credit card receipt, and he admitted to me, "you're a good kid." i wasn't sure what to think.