I looked up yesterday and it was 1985.

I was carrying groceries home from work, walking away from the downtown, when I found myself following a guy who looked like he went to sleep in 1985 and just woke up that afternoon. And then immediately decided to go shopping for music. He was carrying one of those little cd bags that no one carries anymore -- because no one goes into those stores anymore, unless they want to buy some figurine of Darth Vader or the rabbit from Life in Hell -- and wearing the kind of carefully-weathered sneakers that reminded me of a guy who used to beat his jeans with a coat hanger. Of course his laces were undone. He had a black t-shirt with an Absolut Vodka ad on it. Studded belt, black jeans. Yet add to this the incongruity of being somewhere in his fifties, with a haircut like crushed grass.

And here I am (above), with the eighties just over, looking like the future would never come.


  1. OMG. Who is this cute dude? Do you think you could set us up?

  2. That is, of course, the correct answer.


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