Social Experiment

09 | The Rolling Stones

When I opened my closet, I saw nothing but expensive jeans and tight shirts, and absolutely none of it looked appealing. As I scavenged the back of my closet for the my old clothes that hid in boxes, I told myself that it would be fine if I didn't completely dress up today. I mean, what were the chances I'd see anyone, anyway? I pulled out my favorite Rolling Stones tee, the one that was faded from the amount of times I've worn it, and paired it with ripped dark washed jeans and my beloved white high top Converse.

After I changed, I headed outside with with my purse and keys. It was forty five degrees and sunny out, a nice surprise for the Philadelphia winter season, so I skipped driving and opted for the bus. I eventually got off of in the middle of the city, by my favorite coffee shop in Rittenhouse Square. I was enthralled by one shop in particular, with a faded vintage sign hanging above the front door that read Vintage Records.

The familiar scent of incense burning in the store hit me as I took my first step into the building. I made my way toward the sticker-covered staircase in the corner of the room and climbed the steps until I reached the top floor. There was nobody around when I got up there, and the windows were wide open to make the air less stuffy.

As I shuffled through records, my fingertips grazed a recognizably-stamped record, and I pulled it out with a small smile to examine it.

"You're into the Rolling Stones, huh?" A voice surprised me a few feet away.

I look up in surprise to see a guy around my age with blonde hair and electric blue eyes with his eyes on me. I hadn't thought there was anyone up here, but I glanced past the guy to see a door open with a sign reading STAFF ONLY. My eyes fall on the name tag on his chest with 'Aaron' unscripted on the tiny piece of metal.

"I wonder what tipped you off," I joke easily.

His drop to the album in my hands, and then to my matching tee shirt, before he looks back up at me with a wider smirk that threatens to change into a smile. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm actually just really good at guessing someone's music taste."

I allow myself to laugh, and when I do he allows himself to smile. "I'm afraid you're wrong. I actually hate the stones. I'm more of a Justin Bieber girl."

Aaron nods with a teasingly solemn expression on his face. "That's a shame. Here I thought there was such thing as a pretty girl who also has an impressive music taste, but I guess it's just an impossible match."

My cheeks warm involuntarily at the compliment, but nonetheless, I continue my game. "I guess it is. I'm sorry to disappoint."

"You didn't, don't worry," His smile is now a full-on grin. "I'm Reese."

My eyes glance down at his name tag again before meeting his gaze in confusion. "Not Aaron?" 

Reese- or Aaron, I'm not sure yet- looks down at his name tag and then back up at me sheepishly. "I replaced Aaron," he clarifies. "My boss hasn't gotten me a new name tag yet. I think he forgot, too, because he's been calling me Aaron recently."

I laugh at his words but, before I can answer, someone shuffles behind the STAFF ONLY door. "Aaron!" An authoritative voice calls, and we both tun to see a burly man sticking out the doorway to look at Reese expectantly. "Get back here and help Nathan with these boxes, will ya?"

Reese cringes when he says 'Aaron', but nods quickly. "Okay, I'm coming."

The burly man disappears in a back room but as Reese turns back to me, I think about how he had said Nathan. I mean, there had to be plenty of Nathan's in the city, right? I told myself not to think too much of it, and instead of firing off questions like normal, I uncharacteristically held back. I set down the Rolling Stones album as I thought about Angelo's next door, but Reese's voice stops me before I move.