Another day. Another post working trip to an all you can eat Korean BBQ buffet. Drifting in and out of sleep. Tried to save myself, but myself keeps slipping. It's all in my head. I'm hearing it over and over again. Can't remember the song title exactly, but I have got to hear the song that bears that lyric right now. Go to the iPod, it's not there. WHAT?@#! This can't be right. No The Fragile? On my iPod? Oh no, no, no. Certainly I have made some kind of mistake/spun that click wheel a little too fast. Check again. Nope. No Fragile. It's not here.
Now I am just confused. As I have said many times before, I have to be one of the few people who truly adored this album; all one hour and forty-three minutes of it. This was the disc I stereotypically put on in the dark in high school when I felt down. It's also the album that the rents would stereotypically come in and turn down as I sat in the dark being a teenage cliche.
Go back a few days.
Got my hands on two new cds this week. Avril Lavigne's [what? you think I am going back on that one? too late. already typed it.] and Nine Inch Nails' latest. Scanned them both. One went on the iPod. One needed more time and didn't hit me as fast as the other one did. One was played quite often in the past few days. The other one was dusted off today as I worked out and found myself enjoying it more than I did when I first pressed play.
Cut to today.
Beverly Center. Escalator down. Everyone waiting on the sole elevator that will get us to the shops. Relatively average and quiet Monday in Los Angeles. Look to the left. There he is, dressed in black, nearly three to four inches taller than me. Yes I am about to [and in a few seconds will] share an elevator with Trent Reznor, frontman for Nine Inch Nails.
Two minutes earlier...
Did the iPod earphone check. Took them out of my ear, and placed them in front of me to see if the music I was blasting was too loud. [I've had an unfortunate experience back in college where I was rushing to class and jammed myself into an elevator with others who were also rushing to class. Was wearing Bose Noise Blocking headphones. Was playing a screamy Le Tigre joint. You can imagine the looks I got and the discomfort everyone felt. I was that guy. I should have let one rip, drowned myself in cologne, or refused to move from my spot as others entered the elevator just to top off the cliche]
I would go on to turn down my iPod seconds later as I stood in an tiny elevator with Mr. Reznor. Why? Because I got my hands on two albums last week, and the one that was currently playing into my ears was the same one I kept giving a spin all weekend. [And, in case you are wondering, not by him. I needed more time. Not even on the iPod. Somehow I found myself apologizing to Mr. Reznor without saying a word or interacting with him.] Awkward. Especially when you are a young black male in "cut-offs" [