A post about Black Friday (part the 2nd).

So I opened up the CD case to find that there was no CD. For a brief instant, I wanted to go back into the store and return it, but I quickly decided to just throw it out. It was 69 cents. I wasn't going to cause a scene for that amount of money. Others certainly would.

So then Bobina and I went into a Borders, where I got a copy of Looking for Alaska with a gift card. I'd been wanting to read it ever since I finished Paper Towns, but only now just got around to it.

I'll admit I'm more than behind the times with this one.

So I'm starting in on it tonight.

WOOP!

After I came home and said bye to Bobina, I was invited by some friends to return to the same mall I just had been at less than an hour ago. Just for kicks, not to buy anything. So I went, because I would've been bored out of my tree at home anyways. We went to Best Buy, which is without a doubt one of the craziest places to be at for Black Friday. But like with the other stores I had previously visited, this one was already pretty calm by the time I got there. Which was good, I didn't want to witness the obsessive shoppers first-hand at all. Just from a distance.

Upon reaching the store, the five of us went into the musical instruments section. I sat down in front of a piano, and played it with no intention of buying it. I'd say maybe .01% of the people who play the keyboards there ever intend on buying them. I improvised, loud enough to only let the music reach my ears, because the most annoying people of all time are those tools who crank up the volume in music stores because THEY NEED TO BE HEARD. I KNOW SMOKE ON THE WATER LISTEN *sour note*

Then out of nowhere, just when I was certain I was playing quietly enough, some guy came up to me saying that he liked what he heard. He wore a yellow cap, short greying hair, trimmed beard. Probably in his 40s. His son, I assume his son, was at his side, tugging subtly on his forearm in an act of quiet, defiant impatience. He asked me if I knew how to play this song or that song, and I said no, I just play my own stuff, mostly. I asked him if he played. He didn't. Just guitar. Asked me if I knew any Pink Floyd, I said "I tried once to learn Great Gig in the Sky", which wasn't even true, but I didn't want the guy to walk away hopeless, crestfallen. He seemed too nice. His act of just coming up and talking was so unexpectedly wonderful to me that I had to return the favor in some small way, shape or form. A pause, a beat. And then the break.

"Alright man, good luck." were his parting words. "You too." I said, nearly inaudible over the music being blasted overhead.

I wish more people were like that guy. He showed me that not everyone is a soulless nothing on this bleak day. And maybe that I shouldn't be so quick to judge everyone. And maybe that there are still humans out there.

~-~