RECORD STORE TALES #1031: Dream Girls

I was notorious.  Every few months, I would say that some girl who walked into the store was my “dream girl”.

When I was first hired, I was breaking up with a girl.  My new boss was good consolation.  He had loved, lost and loved again.  Loved some more and seemed none the worse for wear.  When I walked into the store one day saying I’d just been dumped, he had a great response.

“You’re going to meet a lot of girls here,” he reassured me.  It was like a promise; like a perk of the job.

Unfortunately it didn’t work out that way for me.

I don’t know what his secret was.  Never once did I meet a girl through the Record Store.

The first customer that I declared my “dream girl” showed up in early ’96 at the brand new store that I was managing.  She was looking for the new Jewel (Pieces of You), and unlike a lot of other customers that came in looking for music, she actually bought it.  She was blonde and I remember I liked her shoes.  They were just regular white sneakers but she looked good in them.  I never found out her name.  I lost interest when she came in with some dude.  She did shop with us loyally for a couple years though.  Through the whole time, I never managed to say anything beyond the following:

• Can I help you find anything today?
• That’ll come to $–.–, would you like a bag for that?
• And $–.– is your change, have a great day.

Absolutely pathetic but I never claimed to being good at talking to girls.

There were several that I proclaimed as my new “dream girl” until I knew it was stupid to make such proclamations.  Sometimes it was based on taste, other times the attraction was purely physical.  There was a Star Trek geek girl, but I never managed to figure out what to say.  I was never interested in the ones shopping exclusively in the rap/dance section.  I knew that was a non-starter.  There was this one who I liked that had two nose rings.  I thought, hey, that’s unique.  Two nose rings.  She was quiet, never wanted any help finding anything, and always bought something.  I don’t think I ever caught her name either.

I wonder if I was creepy.  I was certainly awkward, and that can be misinterpreted quite easily.

No, I never met a girl through the Record Store as the boss had promised me.  I did meet friends though, such as Aaron from the KMA, who strolled through my doors around the same time as the Jewel girl.  No to romance, but yes to a heck of a long-lasting bromance.  That’s a lot more valuable, both as a human being and a collector.  We’ve enjoyed each other’s company and sent dozens of CDs back and forth over the decades.

So, to the “dream girls”, I’m sorry it didn’t work out.  It simply was not meant to be.