LP's are my only friends.

Over the last few days, this feeling of loneliness has crept up and over me like a blanket. It has become so intense, it is physically painful.

I'm listening to Stan Getz on my new RECORD PLAYER right now while I write and launder my uniforms for culinary school. I went into the record store downtown to see what they had the other night and was a little surprised to find it so shockingly pristine and clean and organized. Every single LP was in perfect condition. No bunged up dollar rack in this shop. But they didn't have a ton of stuff.

I took my handful of LPs to the register and a nice man who looked like he was straight off of the set of 'Portlandia' asked me if I had found everything ok.
"Well, I didn't see any classical. Do you have any?" I asked.
"Not anything good. Not right now. We only take albums if they are absolutely perfect. You might try some garage sales.."
"Yea, I noticed. Thanks."
"You from here?"
"Nope. I just moved here. I don't know anyone. That's why I'm at the record store by myself on a Saturday night."
The man with the chin beard looked at my face, as if he was decoding me.
"Well the records will keep you company."
(I chuckled) "That's exactly what I was thinking.."
"Hey, welcome to Portland - I'm gonna put a couple of freebies in here for ya. I think you might like these. And I hope we see you in here again."
"Oh, you will," I said, (aware that my throat was aching a little bit from the mere thought of walking out of that lovely store and the 2 minutes of human interaction that came with it), "..I'll need some more friends."