Listening to Indie Dude On A Date At The Noodle Shop
The advice I wish I could whisper in his ear.
The Date
I’m sitting in a noodle shop listening to a dude on a date. He’s one of those guys with a certain bass tone in his voice that makes it carry across the crowded, chaotic restaurant in such a way that I can make out every single syllable.
His date’s voice does not. Either that or she has yet to speak. Given the almost constant flow of his discourse, she may never get the chance.
He’s so old school…
I wonder if he can hear himself, sitting there, bragging about his fantastic taste in music, making fun of people who came late to the party and started liking a certain band after they were already popular, unlike him. Him? Well, he’s old-school. He’s so old school, he’s practically pre-school. He knew about that band before their hit album broke. He knew about that band before they even made an album. He probably went to grade school with the drummer and his mom drove the carpool to AYSO practice at the soccer fields by the park every weekend. And now, all of a sudden, everyone and their little brother is listening to that band, rendering them popular, way past their prime, and completely, utterly uncool. In his very unhumble opinion, anyway.
