At the Hard Bean

Is this Jack White I ask her and she says yes, and listens intently with a look on her face like to listen causes her a little strain. Then she says yes it is his second album, I am like his biggest fan. Is it mostly more lyric driven like this or does he rock out as much too I ask her and she says really it's a nice mix of both you should get it it's way better than Elephant. Better than self-titled I say and take my cookie from her which she just pulled out of the microwave and my mouth waters a little even though I am watching much as I can my sugar regimen since the holidays are over and there were many many days where I only ate chocolate chip cookies and drank coffee. Yes she says. Better than self-titled.

Then Modest Mouse comes on and I am happy I am here. They are St. Johnny's, both these kids: her with the red red lipstick and pale skin and sparkling ball in her labret. Him with his funny half-afro and terrible enourmous faux silver cross hanging on the chain link thick as the chain wallets we used to wear. As if to respond to my affection for Modest Mouse him with thescratchy broom switch switch switch on the old wood floors turns up the music in his earphones almost so I can hear it better than the stuff on the speakers.

After I sit down and the cold wears off I take off my jacket and think about the phone call I just had. About hearts and being nervous and how it is sometimes, when you're like me with great great doses of faith that are just inborn and live inside you there without any help just a gift. That to lose your asset; to lose your honesty if that's your gift or song if that's your gift well to lose your faith when that's who you naturally are how it makes it so you truly are the most hopeless person that you know. Inverse relationship of who we are and how we do. To be capable of great oppositte doses of exactly who we say we are and vice versa. How everything is true. Including the lie. Mercury is retro it's now that we have windows in especially to those funny little twists of self like that. What we think we take for granted about ourselves. O harkened shot of ego...Life is funny that's what it is, I know I know.

Erika will be here soon.

When I look up again the nerdy black guy with the half-grown afro is standing still as sand in the middle of the room reading his text. What could it say? I can practically hear him breathing. God all us humans. All us humans with all these hearts.

How do we possibly do it???