I've long had this juvenile fantasy that the sullen clerks where I buy my records would recognize my taste in music and welcome me as one of their own. Last night it actually happened. They were playing Pepe Braddock's mix of Iz and Diz's 'Mouth'; I asked what it was, and he handed me the sleeve: "House record of the year." We started talking, and before long he was handing me records to listen to, saying "where is it, it couldn't have been sold, nobody ever buys good music in this store" and gratifying stuff like that.
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