I’ve heard of wearing your heart on your sleeve, but…

On the verge of becoming Kathleen Turner Overdrive

I sat peacefully at the ref desk, head cocked theatrically to one side, wondering if I could finagle a quick combo music-peddling trip to both Zia Records (they give more $) and then Bookmans tonight. I envision buckets of money being handed over the counters and me jogging to my car, not caring if I lose a couple dollars to the spring breeze.

When up walks this woman, shaking me out of my John Dorian daydream. She has remarkably peach lips. I can’t stop looking at them.
“Is there a record store in Phoenix called Via?”
Na uh.
“There’s one called Zia.”
“Is that what it’s called? A used record store?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, so it’s Zia. I’ve heard they’re expensive, though, and this other one Brooks something…”
I Google it, but I know she means-
 “Bookmans?”
“Yes! I’ve heard they’re cheaper.”
This is true. And you are creepy.
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