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Vinyl (3/1/19) “Wow, everybody just cleared out. “That’s what happens when you leave a “Bookstore with vinyl.” I haven’t a clue what she meant And to be perfectly honest, I’m not Sure she knew either. She also Carried some vinyl from the bookstore That people clear out of because it Sells vinyl: Hairspray. She was Very excited to show me that she Could now complement a vinyl record She’d purchased earlier: High School Musical. It was that Hairspray. She almost bought a Panic! at the Disco Album too, Death of a Bachelor, but Money has a way of losing its prowess Once you’ve already committed it to Something else. I moseyed through The aisles while she carried Hairspray Under her arm, saw a Ghost record With only five songs; almost grabbed An Iron Maiden vinyl out of sheer Curiosity, but laziness didn’t want me To pull my hands out of my jacket Pockets; Frank Sinatra could be seen Tipping his hat and The Red Hot Chili Peppers’ greatest hits were nearly Overshadowed by a misplaced Prince. Green Day boasted nearly an entire Shelf, but Revolution Radio was the Album up front—a mistake when Dookie and American Idiot were both Present. Daft Punk had some vinyl, But who looks at a track list of theirs And thinks, “Oh, yes, a classic DP “Track right there.”—? Even Pulp Fiction had some vinyl, “featuring” The voices of John Travolta and Samuel L. Jackson and conversations Their characters had in the movie; Girl, You’ll be a Woman Soon was The only notable track. Although I Was yet to learn the fact about bookstores That sell vinyl, I did notice that we Were the only people there. Perhaps It was because the store was only Open for another fifteen minutes, Or maybe no one wanted to buy a Vinyl record of Pulp Fiction. Maybe That’s just what happens in a bookstore That sells vinyl. The shelves were all full, and yet I Was amazed at a lack of other qualities: The Smashing Pumpkins were not to be Found, nor anything by Alter Bridge, or The Killers, or Queen, or Post Malone, But somehow J. Cole’s latest release Was there. I was underwhelmed with The options, but someone else was Overjoyed with Hairspray. That Hairspray. And I was only frustratingly staring at The front cover of the Arctic Monkey’s Suck It and See, wishing they hadn’t Decided on such a minimalist approach. Our cars were the only ones left in The parking lot. Everybody just cleared Out. I guess that’s what happens when You leave a bookstore that sells vinyl. Perhaps they didn’t want Pulp Fiction, Or they were as disgusted as I was with Suck It and See. Maybe they just missed The last Hairspray. That Hairspray. Needless to say, I never figured out What she meant.
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