Apple,
I’m leaving. I’m going back to Minneapolis.
I know what you’ve been doing. I know who you’ve been doing it with.
I can’t stand this fucking city for one more goddamn night. I hate it. I hate what it’s done to you.
When that shit catches up with you, don’t call me for help.
Steven
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Monday, April 5, 2010
Episode 08: They Call This Girl "Butter Nose"
I kicked the snow off my shoes as I banged on the door. Alan strolled over and unlocked the door, coffee mug in hand.
“Wow! You look fucking terrible!”
I love opening the store with Alan.
“Hey… fuck off.”
“You and Dezi have a good time last night?”
“Jesus, Alan. You know I’m in no shape to talk until I have a bit of coffee in my system.”
I strolled behind the counter and grabbed my mug, filled it up, and took a walk down to the basement to discard my winter gear and catch a cigarette. No matter how badly I need a cigarette, it just can’t be the first thing in my body. Coffee is always a good choice.
I stood down in the basement among the records, and, ahem, other merchandise and kicked the events of last night around in my still-hungover brain. What exactly is Alan’s relationship with this girl? Is this really something I should get into with him? Fuck it, he’s been there before. He knows what this girl’s about. Still, Alan’s never been one to put his feelings on display. Maybe he’s holding back. Lord knows I can’t afford to lose this job. Especially over something like this.
I finished up my smoke and made my way back upstairs as Alan was unlocking the door for everyone else. Open for business.
“So, how’d things go after I left? That girl plays by her own rules.”
“Oh, not much. Had a few more drinks… probably should have stopped… had a few more drinks.”
“No.. Steven… No. That doesn‘t sound anything like you”
Jesus Christ. “How exactly do you know this girl again?”
“I thought I explained that to you last night.”
“In my defense, a lot of last night has become a bit of a blur. You know how it is when you get to adult drinking. Sometimes even the sober parts of the night blend in with the, um, less… sober… parts.”
Alan sighed and took a sip of his coffee. He’s not one to retell stories. In fact, a lot of his story remains a bit of a mystery to me.
“Alright, she came in a few months back. Back in the summer and wanted to be set up for the weekend. No big thing, as you know.”
“Right.”
“The first couple of times she came in were pretty typical. Straight cash, a little bit of flirting. I turned up at one of her parties once. It was a good time.”
He poured himself another cup of coffee. I’ve never seen the bill for how much coffee we go through week to week, but it can’t be cheap.
“Same old story for a month or two, but then she showed up a couple of times and didn’t have enough cash to cover. You know that I’ve never been one to extend any kind of credit line to these kids. But I knew her a little bit. Like I said, I’d been over to her place once or twice, so, worse comes to worse, I do know where she’s at.”
“That seems very out of character for you. I mean, I haven’t been here long, but I’ve never known you to let people slide. Lord knows you never let me slide.”
“Ha! Trust me, I don’t want to have to come around your place anymore than I have to. I’ve seen the way you live.”
“Hey, judge not…”
“Anyway, so the first couple of times I went over she just ducked into her bedroom, got the money, and that was the end of the story. Really no big thing. But then I started coming around and she didn’t have the money.”
“Hmm…”
“Like I said, usually when I turned up and asked for the money, she would just duck into the bedroom and grab it. End of story. This time, I turned up and someone else answered the door. Some skinny little Asian girl who was all fucking angles and some sexy bangs.”
You could always tell when Alan was becoming a bit uncomfortable because that was when he would start swearing.
“She invited me in and asked if I wanted a drink. Noticing the PBR in her hand I asked for one and she grabbed it. I asked her if Dezi was around and she said, ‘Yeah, hold on,’ and yelled for Dezi to come out.”
“So it’s not like she was ducking you?”
“No, although, I mean, how could she? I knew where she lived. She’d have to go to great lengths to duck me over $40.”
“So… you’re standing their with this foxy Asian girl, PBR in hand…”
“Dezi comes out and says, ‘Hi. How’s your night?’ You know, some small talk shit, which immediately concerned me. She seemed to be changing the rules a little bit. I wasn’t totally down with the situation anyway, but it was working. Now the rules are changing? I mean, I know firsthand what type of shit this girl’s into and frankly, I don’t need this.”
The first customer of the day walks in the door, kicking the snow off his shoes as he enters. He’s a short dude, 5’6” maybe? Dark hair, dark hat, dark hoodie. The Minneapolis winter uniform. Alan lowered his voice a bit.
“So I tell her, ‘My night’s fine, y’know? How’s yours?’ Like I said, I hadn’t really come prepared to make small talk. I had other places to be. So I said, ‘Listen, I can’t really stick around, y’know.’ And she was like, ‘Yeah, come in here.’ And walked into her room.”
“Cue the porn music. In fact, hold on, I think we just took in a record of porn music.”
“Fuck me. You may as well. As soon as I walked in she grabbed me and told me that she didn’t have any money. I noticed that she had already been getting into her weekend routine.”
“Ha! Jesus, man. I can barely even picture you in this situation.”
“Please, I’ve been in worse. Or at least more perplexing.”
“So she doesn’t have the money. Is this story going where I think it’s going.”
“Kind of. She says, ‘I don’t have the money right now. My ex-boyfriend came around and trashed the place. He knew where I kept my money and took what was left’ And I said, y’know, well, that seems terrible, but I‘m still going to need the money.”
“Shiiiit, Alan! You get your pimp hand out? Get that money?”
The customer chimed in.
“Alan? Pimp hand? You kids get started early, huh?”
“Never mind, man. Something we can help you with?”
“Nah, just having a look.”
“So, this girl’s been robbed by her ex, you’re out $40, she’s out of her mind…”
“So she says, ‘Can I get you the money next week?’ and I’m thinking, ‘Alright, I can’t do this.’ I mean, this ain’t UNICEF. ‘No, I need that money now.’”
At this point, I couldn’t help but notice that the customer was lingering awfully close to the counter, flipping a little too deliberately through old issues of Maximumrocknroll.
“So this crazy bitch grabs me by my belt and is like, ‘Can’t you please give me until next week?’”
“Oh, um, I gotcha. Listen, I’m gonna run downstairs and grab another smoke.” I said, shooting a quick glance at the guy leafing through the mags. Alan took the hint.
I stepped out from behind the counter, coffee cup in hand, and made my way back toward the stairs. I lingered on the top step and listened to Alan make conversation with this guy.
“You looking for something specific?”
“Do you have Bobby Stinson’s album?”
“Which one?”
“Um… The most recent one.”
“The one that came out on Warner?”
“Yeah, that one.”
“Sorry, we don’t carry that one.”
“Could you order it for me?”
“Sorry, it’s been out of print for a while now. If one comes in I’ll set it aside for you if you’d like.”
“It’s no big deal.”
With that the customer left. Alan refilled his cup of coffee and stepped out the front door after him to catch a cigarette of his own, forgetting his jacket and gloves.
“Wow! You look fucking terrible!”
I love opening the store with Alan.
“Hey… fuck off.”
“You and Dezi have a good time last night?”
“Jesus, Alan. You know I’m in no shape to talk until I have a bit of coffee in my system.”
I strolled behind the counter and grabbed my mug, filled it up, and took a walk down to the basement to discard my winter gear and catch a cigarette. No matter how badly I need a cigarette, it just can’t be the first thing in my body. Coffee is always a good choice.
I stood down in the basement among the records, and, ahem, other merchandise and kicked the events of last night around in my still-hungover brain. What exactly is Alan’s relationship with this girl? Is this really something I should get into with him? Fuck it, he’s been there before. He knows what this girl’s about. Still, Alan’s never been one to put his feelings on display. Maybe he’s holding back. Lord knows I can’t afford to lose this job. Especially over something like this.
I finished up my smoke and made my way back upstairs as Alan was unlocking the door for everyone else. Open for business.
“So, how’d things go after I left? That girl plays by her own rules.”
“Oh, not much. Had a few more drinks… probably should have stopped… had a few more drinks.”
“No.. Steven… No. That doesn‘t sound anything like you”
Jesus Christ. “How exactly do you know this girl again?”
“I thought I explained that to you last night.”
“In my defense, a lot of last night has become a bit of a blur. You know how it is when you get to adult drinking. Sometimes even the sober parts of the night blend in with the, um, less… sober… parts.”
Alan sighed and took a sip of his coffee. He’s not one to retell stories. In fact, a lot of his story remains a bit of a mystery to me.
“Alright, she came in a few months back. Back in the summer and wanted to be set up for the weekend. No big thing, as you know.”
“Right.”
“The first couple of times she came in were pretty typical. Straight cash, a little bit of flirting. I turned up at one of her parties once. It was a good time.”
He poured himself another cup of coffee. I’ve never seen the bill for how much coffee we go through week to week, but it can’t be cheap.
“Same old story for a month or two, but then she showed up a couple of times and didn’t have enough cash to cover. You know that I’ve never been one to extend any kind of credit line to these kids. But I knew her a little bit. Like I said, I’d been over to her place once or twice, so, worse comes to worse, I do know where she’s at.”
“That seems very out of character for you. I mean, I haven’t been here long, but I’ve never known you to let people slide. Lord knows you never let me slide.”
“Ha! Trust me, I don’t want to have to come around your place anymore than I have to. I’ve seen the way you live.”
“Hey, judge not…”
“Anyway, so the first couple of times I went over she just ducked into her bedroom, got the money, and that was the end of the story. Really no big thing. But then I started coming around and she didn’t have the money.”
“Hmm…”
“Like I said, usually when I turned up and asked for the money, she would just duck into the bedroom and grab it. End of story. This time, I turned up and someone else answered the door. Some skinny little Asian girl who was all fucking angles and some sexy bangs.”
You could always tell when Alan was becoming a bit uncomfortable because that was when he would start swearing.
“She invited me in and asked if I wanted a drink. Noticing the PBR in her hand I asked for one and she grabbed it. I asked her if Dezi was around and she said, ‘Yeah, hold on,’ and yelled for Dezi to come out.”
“So it’s not like she was ducking you?”
“No, although, I mean, how could she? I knew where she lived. She’d have to go to great lengths to duck me over $40.”
“So… you’re standing their with this foxy Asian girl, PBR in hand…”
“Dezi comes out and says, ‘Hi. How’s your night?’ You know, some small talk shit, which immediately concerned me. She seemed to be changing the rules a little bit. I wasn’t totally down with the situation anyway, but it was working. Now the rules are changing? I mean, I know firsthand what type of shit this girl’s into and frankly, I don’t need this.”
The first customer of the day walks in the door, kicking the snow off his shoes as he enters. He’s a short dude, 5’6” maybe? Dark hair, dark hat, dark hoodie. The Minneapolis winter uniform. Alan lowered his voice a bit.
“So I tell her, ‘My night’s fine, y’know? How’s yours?’ Like I said, I hadn’t really come prepared to make small talk. I had other places to be. So I said, ‘Listen, I can’t really stick around, y’know.’ And she was like, ‘Yeah, come in here.’ And walked into her room.”
“Cue the porn music. In fact, hold on, I think we just took in a record of porn music.”
“Fuck me. You may as well. As soon as I walked in she grabbed me and told me that she didn’t have any money. I noticed that she had already been getting into her weekend routine.”
“Ha! Jesus, man. I can barely even picture you in this situation.”
“Please, I’ve been in worse. Or at least more perplexing.”
“So she doesn’t have the money. Is this story going where I think it’s going.”
“Kind of. She says, ‘I don’t have the money right now. My ex-boyfriend came around and trashed the place. He knew where I kept my money and took what was left’ And I said, y’know, well, that seems terrible, but I‘m still going to need the money.”
“Shiiiit, Alan! You get your pimp hand out? Get that money?”
The customer chimed in.
“Alan? Pimp hand? You kids get started early, huh?”
“Never mind, man. Something we can help you with?”
“Nah, just having a look.”
“So, this girl’s been robbed by her ex, you’re out $40, she’s out of her mind…”
“So she says, ‘Can I get you the money next week?’ and I’m thinking, ‘Alright, I can’t do this.’ I mean, this ain’t UNICEF. ‘No, I need that money now.’”
At this point, I couldn’t help but notice that the customer was lingering awfully close to the counter, flipping a little too deliberately through old issues of Maximumrocknroll.
“So this crazy bitch grabs me by my belt and is like, ‘Can’t you please give me until next week?’”
“Oh, um, I gotcha. Listen, I’m gonna run downstairs and grab another smoke.” I said, shooting a quick glance at the guy leafing through the mags. Alan took the hint.
I stepped out from behind the counter, coffee cup in hand, and made my way back toward the stairs. I lingered on the top step and listened to Alan make conversation with this guy.
“You looking for something specific?”
“Do you have Bobby Stinson’s album?”
“Which one?”
“Um… The most recent one.”
“The one that came out on Warner?”
“Yeah, that one.”
“Sorry, we don’t carry that one.”
“Could you order it for me?”
“Sorry, it’s been out of print for a while now. If one comes in I’ll set it aside for you if you’d like.”
“It’s no big deal.”
With that the customer left. Alan refilled his cup of coffee and stepped out the front door after him to catch a cigarette of his own, forgetting his jacket and gloves.
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