Urban setting, 5:00 pm Friday evening, April 19th 2024 AD. Sunny and hot. Traffic is the usual nightmare it is here. I fight traffic and finally find a parking space. I walk through the blazing sun to a music store to pick up a cymbal I ordered that has allegedly arrived. The employee who helps me has a goatee, looks to be in his mid-50’s, slim build. Looks like an aging geek, basically. I note two, possibly three skull tattoos on his forearm and hand, and wonder if this older fellow thinks he looks tough or evil because of his skull tattoos. It’s absurd. He also speaks with one of those insanely phony “super nice guy” voices some service people use. I hate those voices to start with, but when it comes from an older guy who is also sort of trying to look scary…I don’t know, I’m at a loss for words. It’s baffling. Pick a lane FFS, are you doing a terrible job of being scary, or a terrible job of being super nice? How can you be this old and still have zero grasp on who you are?
He goes to get the cymbal I ordered, struggles to find it. Eventually does, as soon as he brings it out I see it’s not the one I ordered. I’m disappointed and irritated. Someone at the other store catalogued this cymbal incorrectly in their system so that’s that, there’s nothing to be done. Why are people so fucking incompetent and unable to correctly perform even the simplest tasks?
While waiting for scary/super nice older guy to find the cymbal, I gaze around the place. The store is full of geeks. I’ve noticed this before, that music store clientele are usually like this. The other store employee has sort of long hair but it’s ultra thin and wispy, and he has it flopped over in a weird way that I can’t even explain. He looks like he plays in a 90’s Canadian college rock band like the Grapes of Wrath or something. There is a boy, maybe a teen, bringing in a guitar to be repaired. He is chubby and ugly, looks like he probably likes Green Day. A nerdy dad who wants to sign his nerdy kid up for music lessons but doesn’t understand how that works or when lessons run, despite that seeming like a perfectly obvious thing. A few others I fail to note. As I walk toward the door to leave, a goth nerd female who appears to be in her early 20’s makes meek, fleeting eye contact with me as she walks in through the door. I try to communicate to her with my glance that I despise her. She initially lets the door close behind her, but then reaches back to hold it open for me, but she is too late and only manages to hold it open about an inch. I feel like these few tiny moments speak volumes about her. I thank her for at least attempting to hold the door open, because I think it’s important we all try to be courteous and kind to each other.
I re-enter the inferno and walk back to my vehicle.
crimson highway 