1979
I stood in front of the pile of records sorting through them from front to back, back to front. I want to hear something new. I want a hear a new sound that'll make the sun shine just a little bit brighter. Don't we all have that song that can do that?
I find myself leaning against the counter. "Hey, Joey! What's the hottest thing popping? I need something new."
"Check out uh...." Crossing my arms, I wait for the counter boy's memory to improve his suggestion skills. "Ahh–Oh! Prince!" He shouts with his index finger shaking in my direction. "His name's Prince." I giggle at his last statement being directed toward himself.
I step back from the counter. "Prince from here?"
Joey's scrawny shoulders perk, "I wouldn't know, I'm not from here." That's right! I forger Joey's from Utah. It's hard to remember since I've been seeing him everyday since last month. As his shoulder's fall, Joey's curiosity takes control. "His record came out some days ago. Is he any good?"
With a deep grin, I nod. "He's the bomb.com!" Any person here knows who Prince is. He's practically the prince of Minneapolis. "He isn't a gigantic star or anything but around here everybody loves him. I don't know him but his music's pretty cool– if you wanted my opinion."
"Well, in that case... grab me one too. These things are selling like hot cakes."
You know, I didn't even know Prince had new records coming out. Nobody had ever told me he was signed to a major label until two weeks after his first record was released! I like Prince... then again, who doesn't? He's a little weird looking sometimes but the music's always cool. That's alright with me because I never cared to much for the restaurant, only the food... dig what I'm trying to put down here, people?
My fingers glide along the soft cardboard in shock, god must be with me because I've yet to have gotten a paper cut. I gasp once I see only two are left. "Score!" One for me and one for Joey. I should grab the first album so he can be up to date, shouldn't I?
"You like Prince?" A soft voice says over my shoulder.
I hum, "Mhm."
"So do I."
Paying no mind to the stranger, I just keep on examining the cover. It sounds as if they're trying to spark a conversation but as we all can see, I'm a little busy at the moment. My eyes trail along the boarder of the record's cover. He looks a little different than the last time I saw him. Well, I've only seen him once and that was on the cover of his album. Which is kind of silly because you can barely see his face! That's okay. You see, Minneapolis loves this kid. All types of people have spotted him. I am bound to see him kicking rocks around here.
They ask, "How do you like his new record? I'm thinking of buying it."
"I haven't heard it yet but that'll change in a moment," I say still solely focused on the credits of the gem in my hand.
"Two copies? You must really like him, huh?"
Shrugging my shoulders, I begin. "It's not about liking him, it's about liking his music. I mean he never does interviews so I can't like him be–" As I spoke, I turn around to be face to face with the stranger. "Oh, it's you."
He says nothing and he has no reaction. It seems to be that he was a lot more interested in my reaction than his own. "You know who I am?"
"Aren't I buying your record?" I point out.
Like I said, Prince has become pretty popular. The people love him! I've never seen him in person before though. You know, he's got the prettiest eyes I have ever seen in my natural born life.
Prince nods.
"Hey, your last one was super neat," I exclaim with a gleam of joy. His sheepish blushing is easily categorized as adorable without a debate.
Prince's eyes settle softly on my own. "Thank you." His voice is so gentle and calming. It's somewhere between the voice he sings with and a young child. Does he talk like this all the time? Hey, at least he's humble.
I think he's kind of cute now that I'm seeing him in person. "Say, would you like to go out some time," I ask. I'm asking him out because it's a win, win if you ask me. If he says no, I can say I got rejected by Prince. If he says yes, I get a date with Prince. I don't see anything wrong with it.
He looks taken back slightly by my forwardness. Look, you've got to speak up to get what you want. Otherwise, I'll spend my whole life telling myself I should've asked out Prince when I bumped into him at the record store.
"Uhm..." His index and middle finger tap gently on his smooth chin. I don't see not a hair sight. "I don't know."
The eyebrow residing on the right side of my face perches up to the middle of my forehead, his eyes move with a smooth flow all while roaming around the room without losing contact with my own.
I giggle, "You don't know?"
As his head bobs from left to right, I wonder to myself whether or not he's challenged. Maybe he's just really shy? If you ask me, he's really vague.
"No, thanks... I rather not." Suddenly his voice wasn't so high-pitched. The softness only enhanced with the drop of his octave. Somehow he's gone from Michael Jackson to Barry White within seconds. He faintly snickers at my look of shock. I'm not shocked at the rejection deal, I just didn't expect his voice to be so... deep!
An understanding nod is my only response. Hey, I might not be his type. I still win though because I just got turned down by a local star. Although I wish he would've declined a much more dramatic manner, this was still cool.
"Oka–"
"Bye." He briskly exits, heading to the counter to get checked out by Joey. With a sigh and an oddly satisfied giggle, I continue scanning through records still in a daze from the chain reaction of events that'd just taken place.
