The young lady serving me my coffee this morning -- a striking Anne Hathaway lookalike -- in my now oft-cited internet cafe of choice is wearing a t-shirt that reads "MADE IN THE 80's," leading me to surmise that she cannot have been born any earlier than 1987, a year I still foolishly consider "recent." Meanwhile, I've been coming to this place on a daily basis for a couple of weeks now and the music selection rarely veers from a rigid early-to-mid 90s rotation. Portishead, Dido, the Fugees and The Bends-era Radiohead are all the order of the day here, with the odd, incongruous injection of Elvis Costello now and again. Ms Not-Hathaway's fellow java-jockey -- an equally youthful, rail-thin metalhead in a vintage (well, circa `93) Darkthrone t-shirt -- just put on Guns N' Roses' Use Your Illusion.
What does any of this mean? Nothing, really -- but I signed up to NaBloPoMo, which means I have to post every day, and I'm starting to think that I'm walking into a jagged tear in the space/time continuum every time I come into this place. Tomorrow, I expect the serving staff to be all under the age of 5, and the stereo will be playing a steady diet of Foghat, Janis Ian and Captain & Tenile.
And speaking of messin' with the space/time continuum, in case you missed it, we evidently all have at least another year before Swiss scientists unwittingly create planetary black holes via the Large Hadron Collider and destroy all existence as we know it.
So, y'know....Cheers!
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