My Mistake, So Predictable

Tuesday: The Guitar Store

Time passed slowly as I waited for that crazy crew to wander into my store again. They had made a boring day interesting when they had disrupted my peace. It was almost, well, nice. I will admit, the store does get extremely lonely. There’s only one other worker, Jamie, who helps out a few times a week. Usually I'm by myself from when I open in the afternoon until at night when I close up the shop and walk home.

“Welcome to Go Pluck Yourself.” I say as the bell above the store door tinkers. The sound was something that I had come to hate. On one sober occasion I had even plotted against it. One of the plans included cutting it down and tossing it into a pit of ravenous kittens. Luckily, I couldn't reach it from the ground so for now it was safe. Lucky bugger.

After I shudder at the annoying sound, I continue to lean back in my swivel chair without looking at who had entered, my feet on the counter and eyes closed; listening to You Me at Six’s song - Crash. It had so far been an uneventful day. A few teenagers had come in around one to tape up an advertisement about their 'band' but that was all. Therefore, I was not moving an inch until I knew that the customer was worth my time.

“I thought this was the G String?” A husky voice asks and I feel a feather touch on the bottom of my moccasin, mere seconds before I crash to the ground. I wind my arms in a motion akin to a windmill but gravity takes its’ course and I tip over, nearly smacking my head on the wall behind me. Bloody hell that hurt! My butt makes its debut on the hard, wooden floor below and I shriek as I scramble as quickly as I can to my feet.

“What the hell?” I shout, emerging, cranky and flustered. Alex looks innocently at me from above, peeking down, “I didn’t mean to.” He says, batting his brown eyes. Jerk.

I roll my own in return. “Mmhm sure.” I pause, “Oh, and I have to have some entertainment.” I say, answering his question from before.

He chuckles and yanks down hard on a different beanie, a light blue one this time. “Isn’t that was this store is for?” I stare blankly at him. “En-ter-tain-ment - mu-sic?” He asks slowly, patting my head as if I couldn’t comprehend the meaning. “Anyone home?”

“Ha. Ha.Very cute.” I dig around in my bag for a second and throw the beanie across the counter to him, “I think you forgot this.”

He smiles and tosses it back into my own hands, “it’d look better on you.” Alex winks. “Keep it. I didn’t come back for it, anyway.”

For the second time since he had entered, my mind froze. “Did Jack need more strings?” I ask and then laugh. “Oh yeah, and the owner's pissed. He saw the hole Jack left in the wall. I told him tigers got in.” I cock my head, “But I don’t think he believed me.”

He plops down on the counter, knocking my feet away again to make room. “Ooh, tell him penguins did it!” He comments, turning my i-pod so he can see it. He nods in agreement and changes the song to one I didn’t know I had.

“Penguins?” I laugh, turning the volume back down again. I offer him an ear bud but he declines, turning the music back up so we can both hear it without needing the annoyance of the ear buds.

“Yeah, you know,” he hops off the desk and waddles, not hard to do since his skinny jeans were below his butt, giving him the much needed swag to accomplish the walk. He holds his hands straight at his side and waddles a u-turn back to me. “Penguins, they wear suits, and uh, you know. Beaks?” he ends lamely, hopping up next to my feet again.

I laugh, “That is quite possibly the dumbest thing I have ever seen.” He turns to me with a pout. “I have been told on more than one occasion that I make a very sexy penguin.”

“By a blind person or your grandma?” I tease, and Alex lightly shoves me, sending my i-pod flying to the floor. I fumble for it and the music stops for a second, shuffles, and then picks up wtih a slower beat after a few silent seconds. I move to change it but he slaps my hand away. “I like this song.” He protests snatching the i-pod from my hands.

I let him take it without fighting, “You know it?” I question, listening to the song that had started. It sounded vaguely familiar but I couldn’t place it.

“Therapy?” He asks, tipping his head so his bangs flop into his face. He pushes the hair back absentmindedly and turns the volume up with a flick of his finger.

“Is that what it’s called?”

He looks at me startled, “You don’t know it?” Alex asks, seeming generally puzzled.
“I think my friend Tabby put it on there, but I haven’t listened to it.” I stop and think. “She really only listens to this song from that band.”

“Do you like the band?” He asks, the teasing note back in his voice. I tip my head at him, thinking about it for a second, “I don’t really know them. I’ve only heard the beginning of this song before.”

Alex chuckles and tugs his beanie back into place, scowling at it for a second before he asks, “Really?”

I stare at him, “Uh, yeah.”

“Okay.”

“You’re weird.” I tell him, mostly meaning it. I can't help it, something in this boy confuses me. One second he's shocked because I've never heard of the band and later he's perfectly okay. I was never good with guys.

We wait until the song ends before we speak again. “So what do you think?” He asks, and he seems like he genuinely cares about what I have to say about the song.

“I like it." I reply chuckling as he stares. "It's good!" I defend myself. "Jeez, I mean it! I could probably even play the intro if I wanted.” I snap my fingers and glance quickly around the store, racing to the other end when I see what I want. “Aha!” I shout, waving him over. He struts over to where I am standing. I grin wickedly and hold up one of the guitars we keep in stock. "This will work!" I pull out a stool for him to sit on and plop down on another, pulling the small acoustic guitar into my lap. “It’s probably a little out of tune though,” I apologize and run my fingers over the strings. I tune it a little by ear and then motion for him to start the song over. He complies and I listen closely to the noise spilling out of the earbuds, trying to pick out the chords.

Alex pauses the song when the singing starts and I put my fingers in position, quickly playing the first part. It seemed okay, but not quite right. Something was off.

Alex watches me worry about it for a second before placing his hand over mine, “It’s a slower song.” He instructs. “But your ring finger needs to move faster when you slide it.”

I try it again under his watchful eye. “Not bad,” he praises. “You picked that up by ear?”

I nod, “My dad taught me.”

“How long have you been playing?” He questions, gently taking the guitar from my arms and settling it onto his lap. Alex plays a couple chords and then pauses, tuning it a little more before picking up a steady strumming pattern.

“A couple of years.” I watch him play for awhile before asking, “What about you, Mr. Secret Talent? When did you start playing?”

He shoots me a cheeky grin from under his hair, “It’s just a hobby, nothing serious.” He hands the guitar back and I place it in its case, gently shutting the lid. I fiddle with the case for a second before sliding it back onto its shelf. It was one of my favorite guitars. Light body with tight strings that most of the time had a clear sound. I stand there for a second and run my fingers over the top of the case. My dream guitar.

“Oh!” I jump, suddenly remembering “What did you come here for?”

Alex smiles again, something that seemed to happen often with him, “I was wondering if you wanted to come hang out with me and the guys later this week?”

I stick out my tongue playfully, “You, I would hang out with, but the other guys?” I shake my head, joking. “They’re a mess.” It was sort of true. Even though I had met the others for the total span of about thirty seconds, I knew that they were a rowdy, hilarious, bunch of guys. Exactly my kind of group.

He laughs, not seeming offended in the least, “I know what you mean, but they like you.” Alex leans forward to tug on the end of my hair, “Personally I don’t know what they see in you.”

I pretend to act offended and clamp a hand over my chest, pouting, “That hurt, Alex, seriously; really deep down inside.”

“Where your cold, shriveled up heart is?” He mocks, tipping his chair back to look at me from under the edge of his hat.

I laugh and cock my head, “Someone’s been watching too much of the Grinch.”

“Hey, that’s a great movie, even if it’s not Christmas.” Alex defends it. “So what do you say, ma lady, would you like to hang out with me, guys and all?”

I grin, “It sounds intriguing, so yes. I would love to.”