My mid-life crisis has been cheaper that that of most people.
I rejected a Harley or an inappropriate red convertible sports car for growing
a beard, getting a pair of hipster glasses (vari-focals because I'm old) and
buying loads of old band T-shirts.
I'm not one for keeping all my old band T-shirts in a drawer
at home, so there I was in Millets buying a new rain coat when I struck up a
conversation with a shop assistant of a similar vintage to myself. Having
rejected a long green countryside number ("No thanks, it makes me look
like I'm a member of UKIP"), I settled for the coat that had been
discounted the most in the sale, mainly because it was cheap, didn't make me
look like a tramp, and I had never knowingly seen Nigel Farage or flat-capped
Britain First types wearing one.
"That's a great T-shirt," the shop assistant said,
nodding towards my Joy Division Unknown Pleasures top.
"Oh, wow, thanks," I replied.
Nodding across to her hardly-even-out-of-his teens colleague:
"Young Lance here wouldn't even know what it is."
"Hardly anyone round here does," I said, glad that
I had - at last - found a kindred spirit, in the Fleet branch of the UK's third
best camping and outdoor equipment store, no less.
"It's mountains isn't it?"
*FAMILY FORTUNES WRONG ANSWER KLAXON*
"It's Joy Division, that's what it is," said Lance,
who until that moment had been trying to sell me shoes while I looked at coats.
"No, you idiot Lance, it's mountains. It's mountains, that's
what it is."
*FAMILY FORTUNES WRONG ANSWER KLAXON*
Yep. Joy Division, and their famous unreleased album of
yodelling and oompah music.
I paid, and fled.
2 comments:
Ah, the Joy of the Interzone to be able to tell the tale. That 'Control' movie is pretty fine, too.
Oh dear Alistair, just when you'd thought you'd found that elusive kindred spirit. I send sympathies by the bucket-load,chiefly because you manage to avoid looking like a member of UKIP.
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