I'm next to this old man. He has white thin hair on a head that seems to be too heavy for his thin old man neck. He is wearing a leather jacket, not like a cool bike gang leather jacket, but like the leather jacket that someones dad wears. The rest of his cloths are black. Black shoes, black pants, black socks, black scarf and black gloves.
We are both at a coffee shop, I am on my laptop, he is using the pay for minute public computers. This presumably because he is an old man, and is scared to have a computer in his home. Old people are scared of being alone with computers. He is on You Tube, and is having trouble at first I feel bad for him. I stealthily peak over his shoulder, and see that he is searching for 'the Novas,' He is so cute a doddering old man looking for some old band. Adorable. When he finally figures it out, though, I suddenly find myself with amazingly less sympathy and appreciation for his cuteness.
Without warning the speakers start spraying out loud jarring arrhythmic rock. At first I think he has made a mistake and is confused and bewildered about the loud young people music. But this is not the case. He is smiling an ancient smile, snapping ancient fingers, tapping ancient feet. Everyone in the shop is staring at the guy. He is absorbed in his rock and roll though, and for the next 15 minutes we all are forcibly introduced to the discordant stylings of the Novas. Eventually he just wanders out.
What a strange old man.
We are both at a coffee shop, I am on my laptop, he is using the pay for minute public computers. This presumably because he is an old man, and is scared to have a computer in his home. Old people are scared of being alone with computers. He is on You Tube, and is having trouble at first I feel bad for him. I stealthily peak over his shoulder, and see that he is searching for 'the Novas,' He is so cute a doddering old man looking for some old band. Adorable. When he finally figures it out, though, I suddenly find myself with amazingly less sympathy and appreciation for his cuteness.
Without warning the speakers start spraying out loud jarring arrhythmic rock. At first I think he has made a mistake and is confused and bewildered about the loud young people music. But this is not the case. He is smiling an ancient smile, snapping ancient fingers, tapping ancient feet. Everyone in the shop is staring at the guy. He is absorbed in his rock and roll though, and for the next 15 minutes we all are forcibly introduced to the discordant stylings of the Novas. Eventually he just wanders out.
What a strange old man.
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