Graduation: too soon

I overheard the oddest conversation this morning at work. I had just come in and saw that I was stuck at the music info desk--which normally means that I get to tool around and shelve music until a customer comes and gets up in my grill.

There I am, standing at the info desk trying to alphabetize a box of cds when I hear the crisp sound of track pants moving quickly. Obviously, I turn because this is potentially an amazingly attractive male that will need my assistance in finding some sort of music that signals he is both sensitive, educated, culturally aware and, most importantly, incredibly masculine and manly.

Unfortunately, it's just a middle-aged man with a beard that needed trimming and a rapidly balding head. Interesting that he's wearing track pants, I thought. The style, overall, was not something I would imagine him donning. Rather, I'd picture him as one of those annoying mid-day shoppers that come and mess up the merchandise so you have to go over and fix everything up--dressed in slacks and a dark-coloured, light-wearing sweater.

I'll admit that I turned around a bit disappointed, but, while turning, I did happen to notice this young gentleman with a backpack and tattoo right on the back of his neck. Of course, I made a face because he appeared to be snooping through the electronica, which wasn't exactly the section I'd peg for someone with a tattoo like that on the back of his neck. They were both pretty into looking through the music, so I, once again, went diligently back to work.

Then I heard the older guy (Old Dude) ask the younger guy (Young Fella) if he likes rap. My first thought was that he was about to ask him what he should purchase for his young adolescent son (something that would satisfy his tastes, yet was age-appropriate). Usually, it's nice when customers ask one another for help because then they'll stay away from bothering you... so I didn't mind of course. Then, once the conversation continued, I was sure it was Old Dude's way of picking up Young Fella. THEN, their chatter went along a route in which they both admitted that they were into underground hiphop.

I must pause here to say that there is no way I can describe Old Dude so that you'll understand my shock and how I became so sure that this was some sort of comedy thing going on in the upstairs of the bookstore. I know, I know. Looks aren't everything--but they are when it comes to business, especially music. Even the most optimistic of us cannot say that Old Dude, being middle-aged, white and... well, looking completely Ann Arbor. Those of you who have spent a decent amount in the town [beyond campus, but the city proper] will know what I mean.

The entire time I stood there and shelved cds, I just wish someone else had been around. When Daragh got there, it was too late for him to understand the magnitude of what I had just heard. I am still convinced that it was either a comedy routine, or Old Dude trying to pick up Young Fella. They exchanged numbers and everything. Young Fella even told Old Dude his first and last name, plus the name of his group, his phone number and even the number of his producer. He even explained the glory and wonder of that which is myspace.com.

I hope they don't expect me to pick out Old Dude in a line-up when Young Fella goes missing. Didn't his mother ever tell him to not speak to strangers?





Eight more days of classes. This is potentially (and hopefully) the last of my undergraduate career. Perhaps the end of classes forever. Who knows. Who knows.


AIESEC twin will be here in five days (!!!!!).