Nurses Float Pass

The record store was small, cramped, but somehow it had gotten a reputation which drove its business. People from all around the city would flock through the doors hoping to find the best vinyls, and potentially the best knowledge on some of the most unique music never appreciated before. James never hated going to work for these reasons, but we all have those days, those days where everything is twice as much work, even to bat a lash seems strenuous. He was filing a series of records, nothing specifically exceptional, but maybe that’s why it reminded him about Rachael. Her taste in music always left something to be desired.

He was a Stones fan, and well she had always had a thing for Steven Tyler; he somewhat idolized Kurt Cobain and Dave Grohl, she wanted to have Eddie Vetter’s kids. They had never had a natural draw or connection through the sounds that came out of the speakers. He began to thumb through the pop section, a section that had he not worked there he would never had been in, to begin with. He began to wonder to himself, about the time long ago when he himself had fell victim to the cookie cutter sounds of pop, he remembers himself feeling miserable... Was he miserable because he listened to pop, or did pop make him miserable? It’s the proverbial “chicken or the egg,” question all over again.