No, the above photo is not an actual photo of me at work at Sea Level. Sadly, I don’t have fins, nor a garrulous lobster pal named Sebastian, nor a coral bra. Well, maybe I’m lying a little. I can’t deny my penchant for a good coral bra. Please keep this a secret between you me and the FBI. Would it make you feel it any better if I called it a manziere? A bro? Nah, too ethnic.

Anyhow, its week 5 at Sea Level and I’m a little perturbed, (in a complete shocker.) At the exact moment when I was about to put in that old Afu-Ra album, Body of the Life Force, a couple of old graying yuppies walked in, hand and hand. Which is fine and all, but honestly, why even bother asking me where the country music section is? I don’t know fucking shit about George Strait. Between that and the hipsters with kids (a more frightening proposition unto itself) that have currently invaded the store, I’m stuck bumping the infinitely more placid Besnard Lakes Cd while swilling a diet coke. Of course, the Besnard Lakes remain awesome, but I’m fiending for some “Whirlwind Thru Cities.” Ah well. At least, the hipster parents bought a record. Even it was Amy Winehouse, who I continue to boycott. Not like it matters.

In other news, the weirdly yoked old man that comes in every single Friday rain or shine, has yet to receive his Ibiza Vol. 6 CD. He is very upset. Last week, we even specially ordered him Ibiza Vol. 5. This is after reading him customer reviews of every item in the Ibiza series. Apparently, “Real Ibiza’s creators Chris Cocco & Bruno Leprete have given us this CD out of love, rather than the commercial motives that seem to drive the more recent Ibiza CD’s….and it shows.” Who knew? All I know is that once again this Saturday night, another senior citizen dance party will be lacking in fine rave music from Ibiza. Is there no decency in this world?

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