RECORD STORE TALES Part 232:  Amanda

Although by this time, 2004, I had become a jaded prick in the relationship game, I decided to give dating another shot.  I met this girl from Cambridge named Amanda, nice girl, nothing wrong with her.  It was quickly obvious however that it wasn’t working out.  She liked Trailer Park Boys and had her own car which was a bonus.  She just didn’t get my passion for the rock.

Back at that time I was already working on the Record Store Tales.  In the original sequence of events, I was actually writing what was then supposed to be Part 13:  Perspective.  Most of the original Record Store Tales were excised, but the original Part 13 would have fit in between what became today’s Part 4 and Part 5.  As I was home writing Part 13, Amanda was on MSN, wanting to chat.  Even though my record store bosses regularly accused me of abusing MSN Messenger at work, I have never like it.  I’m an email guy. I always found it annoying.

I told Amanda I was deep in a creative mode and I wanted to finish writing this chapter.  She waited about 10 or 15 minutes before pestering.  She was bored, but I was in the midst of what seemed like a multitude of musical and personal revelations.  It was just one sign that she didn’t really get what I was about.

That weekend it snowed.  I was working the Saturday, and after work she picked me up to go and get something to eat.  I had just read an article about Yusef Islam, the former Cat Stevens, and how he was on a no-fly list in a world of post-911 paranoia.  Two subjects I’m passionate about are music and politics.  While I leave politics aside for LeBrain’s Blog, I do like to discuss issues in private.  Making conversation, I asked her if she’d heard this story about Cat Stevens.  She was irritable about having to drive in the snow, and didn’t answer.  I quietly asked again, trying to thaw the personal ice a bit.

“Did you hear that story, about Cat Stevens?” I prodded.

“Actually, I don’t care,” she answered.

We went out to eat, but those words just ate away at me.  She didn’t care.  And music is the most important thing in my life.  Who was I trying to fool?  This wasn’t going to work out.

The next time we spoke, we agreed to part ways.  She was pretty upset.

Looking back, the funny thing to me is the day when I was all wrapped up in the writing of the original Part 13.  For all my bluster about being a “writer” and “an artist” working on “my story”, and pouring all my soul into it, Part 13 didn’t even make the cut in the end!  Crappy writing is crappy writing and some would say I haven’t improved much since!