It was the first time I’d seen the blonde girl work works at the convenience store since I awkwardly managed to fumble out that I’d made a record and I was giving her a copy.  I’d usually stop in for a drink and she’d come out and listen for a while.  She said that a few of the songs kept getting stuck in her head and she’s played it in the store a few times.

A chinese girl came out of her house and watched from afar for ten minutes.  A man named Damo with a skateboard and a harmonica stopped to talk.  He could speak japanese and wanted to go back there to live (again) to play music.  A couple, him fresh from work still in hi-vis shirt, her adorned in a tie-dyed dress, stayed the whole time with their washing and exchanged pleasantries as our paths crossed.

Blonde convenience store girl walked by on her way home.  It was awkward yet not uncomfortable, like all our interactions.