Friday, November 26, 2004

whose bed have your boots been under?

I never stop being surprised by people. Work is a great place for this, because you know them in such a specific context that when you see new facets, it's always kind of surprising. Heck, it's surprising to see my co-workers in their actual non-dress-code clothes. I loved finding out that a bunch of the boys on staff really dig Le Tigre and Ani Difranco (not necessarily the same boys). I loved getting invited to go see the art show of someone I didn't even know was an artist. These are the cool kinds of surprises.
Last night, after we closed the store, I bounded over to the music section and picked up Shania Twain's greatest hits album. "Kanishka," I said, and before I could finish he began protesting "It's not my fault. I didn't pick it." Maybe he was worried, I dunno, I think he'd heard a few of the other guys get the sharp side of my tongue earlier in the day. It took me a few tries to get him to understand that I was not objecting--I was asking to hear one of the songs.

He stared at me.

"Just when I thought I had you figured out, it turns out you're mean and you like Shania Twain." I threw my arms up in a victory sign at his look of confusion. "You enjoy this!" he accused. "Anarchist!"

Wait till he finds out I watch football, used to go to a fundamentalist private school, and self-define as an angry queer. Whee!

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