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"That's basically everything you need to know," I told Ari as we chained our bikes to the rack on the sidewalk, just outside of the record store where he worked.
"I can't believe I thought it would take more than an hour to catch up on seven missed months of calculus," Ari scoffed, stepping onto the concrete and making his way towards the store. "Felt like it took less than fifteen minutes."
"I guess I have a way with words," I chuckled.
"Sure, you do," Ari winked, grabbing the door handle of the shop and opening it wide, gesturing me to walk in with his hand. I entered, the sound of soft radio rock playing over the speakers hitting me unexpectedly. The familiar record store was left the same way it was the last time I had visited. The only difference was that there were fewer customers.
"Ari, where have you been?!"
I turned to my left, noticing a cheetah—who looked about 20 years old—standing behind the counter by the register. He was leaning over and staring at me, which caused me to tense up a little.
"I had school, remember? I told you that I might be arriving later than usual from now on," Ari followed in behind me and closed the door, walking past me and heading over to the front counter where the cheetah was. I loosened up, realizing he wasn't singling me out.
"Oh, right," the cheetah remembered, standing back as Ari hopped up on the counter, using his hands to stabilize his body. He spun his legs around the table, careful not to knock anything off the countertop. Once he faced the other side of the counter, he hopped back onto the floor, standing up next to the cheetah. "Dude, there's an entrance over there, can you not?" The cheetah groaned.
"It's my shift now, get out of my spot," Ari teased, grabbing onto his chest and pushing him out from behind the counter through the same entrance the cheetah had mentioned.
I stood back as it all happened, wondering what to do and how to react.
"Alright, chill," the cheetah stumbled back, catching his balance as Ari chuckled. "So, uh... how did it go?"
"You don't have to pretend you're interested," Ari smirked, leaning up against the counter.
"I'm just glad you're getting an education," the cheetah got sentimental all of a sudden.
"Yeah, even though I was enrolled seven months into senior year."
"At least you have four months," the cheetah immediately dismissed, patting Ari on the back. "And eight, for the, you know." He then grabbed his keys from the counter and headed my way without looking. "Seeya, Ari."
He then bumped into me after facing the way he should've faced. "S-sorry," I stuttered, stepping aside as the cheetah passed by me, grabbing the handle of the door and leaving the store.
"Ari!" I heard another voice call, this one older and deeper. I looked ahead to see a tall moose, coming from the back of the store. "You're five minutes late."
"Oh, my god, I had school!" Ari groaned, tired of repeating his words.
"'I had school!'" The moose mocked Ari's voice with a high-pitch, making Ari exhale through his nose sharply. "I don't give a shit, okay? This is your school. Don't let it happen again." The moose turned around and walked away.
"Okayyyy," Ari dragged on jokingly, resting his head in his fists.
"Hey, what did I say about the attitude?" The moose called out, disappearing into the back of the store.
Ari turned his head over to me. "Sorry about all that. That was just my boss."
"He's kinda... scary..." I chuckled nervously under my breath, walking over to the counter.
"Vic? No, he's a teddy bear," Ari disagreed, leaning back up and facing me. "I've known him for years, so I know when he's sarcastic and when he's not."
"I... I don't know when you're sarcastic," I stuttered, scratching the back of my head.
Ari began to laugh, looking at me intimately. "You're so cute, Northwest."
"What?" I blurted out, my cheeks going red. "...Was that sarcasm?"
"I'll let you decide," Ari remarked, turning his attention to the computer on the counter. "Hey, you can leave now, if you want. You caught me up, you don't have to tag along anymore."
"I... I like hanging out with you, though," I admitted.
"That's sweet," Ari smiled, typing something into the computer. Suddenly, two people approached the counter behind me, causing me to step aside and apologize once again. The two had acquired one record each and placed their items on the counter. Ari swiftly greeted them and scanned the items, typing onto the computer again. "But, seriously, all you're gonna do is watch me work for several hours," Ari continued the side conversation while simultaneously helping the customers with their purchase.
"I'm fine with that."
"If that's what you want," Ari winced, taking the money that one of the customers handed to him and putting it into the register. "Thank you, have a nice day," Ari told them as they took their bagged purchases and went on their way.
"Can I do my homework here?" I asked him.
"Yeah, if you wanna come behind the counter, you can sit in that chair," Ari suggested, nodding his head to a swivel chair that stood next to him, lower than his waist.
"I'm allowed to do that? Go behind the counter?"
"We can pretend you also work here."
I chuckled once again and walked over to the little entrance that the cheetah pointed out, joining him on the other side of the counter. I took my backpack off considerately, resting it on the floor, and sat down in the chair. I looked up to see my head was at the level of Ari's hips. He was facing the other way, which gave me a good view of his jeans and how tight they were around his... waist.
Ari then spun back around, causing me to immediately return to unpacking my bag. He watched as I unzipped the backpack and pulled out my notebook and folder, retrieving the packet that was due tomorrow. I set it on top of my legs and took out my pencil, ready to go to work. But, something was missing.
"Uh... I, kinda, work better with music playing..?" I told him, not wanting to sound rude.
"Do you want me to turn the music up?" Ari suggested, referring to the radio playing over the speakers, filling the store.
"I, uh... don't really like this song..." I squinted, wanting to be as polite as possible.
"What?!" Ari gasped, placing his paw on his hip in an offended stance. "You don't like Car Seat Headrest?"
"That's what this is?"
"That's my favorite band, idiot."
"Oh, sorry—"
"I'm kidding, don't worry," Ari snickered, going back to typing on the computer. "Everyone has different opinions about music. That's what's cool about it."
"So, this is your favorite band?" I wondered, paying attention to the song playing over the speakers.
"Well, I have several favorites, this is just one of them," Ari answered. "My favorite bands are... Hm, there's a lot... Car Seat Headrest, obviously, Nirvana, Twenty One Pilots, The Killers, Paramore, Lowertown, The Strokes, Of Monsters And Men, Vampire Weekend, that kind of shit."
"I like Nirvana," I tried my best to relate.
"What are your favorite bands?"
"Uh... Well, I have a few, as well," I hesitated, thinking of all the groups I listen to. "But, my favorite, like, favorite-favorite, is Tally Hall."
"Ah, I've heard of them. They're pretty good."
"Oh, and Neutral Milk Hotel. I love that band, too," I chirped up, straightening my back as my face lit up.
"You like Neutral Milk Hotel and you don't like Car Seat Headrest?" Ari scoffed, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter.
"What do you mean?"
"They're both so similar," Ari expanded. "Weird and random, but unique. Basically folk music with low-quality production."
"What even is folk music?"
"Man has acoustic guitar. Man sings song. Song is personal. People obsess with it. Classic country music without the alcohol or the accent."
"Is that what Tally Hall is?"
"I guess you can say they're in that field. What's your favorite album?" Ari questioned me, changing and not changing the subject.
"By Tally Hall?"
"Any band. All-time favorite, go."
"Uh... 'Good & Evil'," I nodded my head. "Still by Tally Hall."
Ari nodded his head and went back to his computer, typing something onto the database program that was open on the screen. I couldn't see what he was searching up, but he then stepped away from the counter, leaving me as he walked out into the more populated section of the store.
I stood up and watched him from a distance, confused by what he was doing. He approached the several racks of vinyl records in the middle of the store and skimmed through all of them, flipping through one sleeve at a time with his fingers, searching for a certain album. After scanning through one stack, he looked through another. Then another. He then stopped abruptly, something catching his eye. He reached into the shelf and pulled out a record, covered in a black-and-white-checkered sleeve that looked very familiar to me.
He then came back over to where I was and held the record out to me from across the countertop. Surely enough, it was Good & Evil by Tally Hall.
"Oh, shit!" I gasped, grabbing the record from his paw, staring at the front cover art, wrapped in tight plastic with a sticker pasted on the top right corner of the album, reading the band name and the price. It was twenty-seven dollars and fifteen cents. "Oh, my god, this... This is awesome!" I chuckled, looking up at Ari, who was giving me his iconic smile.
"I don't suppose you can buy it," Ari assumed, looking at the record in my hand. "I just wanted to find it for you—"
Ari then went quiet as I reached into my back pocket and pulled out two twenty-dollar bills from the wallet in my pants, smacking it down on the table.
"I... I thought you said you weren't making money at the theater?"
"That... that was an exaggeration..." I murmured, a little embarrassed. "But, the paycheck is usually three hundred a week. We now get paid one hundred. The theater isn't making enough to pay us in full. Plus, I got my paycheck a week late, I got it in the mail last night."
"Ah, I see," Ari nodded his head. "So, you wanna buy it?"
"Yes! I... I mean, I don't have a record player," I realized, placing the album back on the counter.
"We do, right there." Ari pointed at something behind me. I turned around to see exactly what I had been talking about, resting on the shelf next to the big windows of the storefront: a record player. Not one of those cheaper ones, no, a real, expensive-looking record player. It had a belt-driven turntable, a die-cast aluminum platter, a tonearm with a stylus needle sticking out of it, and a sleek, clear glass dust cover that made the whole thing shimmer in the sunlight coming through the large windows. There was already a record spinning on the player.
Ari came back around to the other side of the counter, reaching for the record player. He carefully lifted the glass lid, gently grabbing one of the knobs on the turntable base and twisting it to a stop. The record stopped spinning and the music over the speakers went quiet.
"Oh, I thought that was the radio playing," I spoke as Ari chuckled, lifting the shiny black record off of the platter and the center spindle. Ari then grabbed the sleeve of the record, which was standing behind the player the whole time, and carefully slid it back into the paper covering. He was extremely gentle with the way he handled it.
He then held the album to my face, which was a simple black doodle on a plain white background of two dogs hugging each other. It looked like it could have been done in Microsoft Paint.
"'Twin Fantasy' by Car Seat Headrest. The 2018 version, though, because it's better by all standards. This is my favorite album," Ari stated. "Along with 'Teens of Denial', um, 'The New Abnormal' by The Strokes, 'Public Strain' by Women, 'Sound & Color' by Alabama Shakes, uhh, 'Brand New Eyes', Paramore, uhhhm... 'Hot Fuss', The Killers, 'Trench', Twenty One Pilots, 'Portamento', The Drums, 'I Love To Lie', Lowertown, what else... Those are just to name a few. I have a lot of favorites."
"You know your stuff," I admired.
"Taylor always puts my favorite records on when his shift ends before I get here. Like a little comfort thing. Today, he chose the gay-breakup-album, which makes me happy."
"And Taylor is..?"
"The guy that was just here. The cheetah." I nodded my head to his response. "Now, do you still want to buy that album?"
"...Yeah. Why not?"
I grabbed the two twenty-dollar bills from the counter and handed them to Ari. He grabbed them with one hand, and with the other, set his favorite album back on the shelf with the record player. He then walked past me, causing me to shift out of the way once again, opening the register and shoving the money in. He then grabbed my album, scanned it, typed onto the computer keyboard, took my change out of the register, handed it to me without looking, and slid the vinyl record into a paper bag.
"Here you go," Ari handed the bag to me. "Thank you, have a nice day," he joked. I laughed and excitedly opened the bag, taking out the album. I handed him back the paper bag ironically and traced my fingers around the edges of the sleeve, looking for a weak point in the plastic wrap to tug at and tear it off. I wanted to be as careful with the album as possible.
Once I ripped off the plastic and crumpled it up, Ari took it from my hand and tossed it into a trash can that stood in the corner. I held the album in front of me and stared at the front cover art, infatuated with it.
"Want me to put it on?" Ari offered, to which I took up on.
"Yes, please," I responded, handing it to him. "I don't want to break it."
"I'm sure you wouldn't."
"I'm sure I would."
Ari rolled his eyes and walked back over to the player. He looked at the tracklisting on the back of the sleeve and examined it for a bit. "What's your least favorite song?"
"Huh?"
"What's your least favorite song on the album?"
"Oh, uh... I don't know, I like them all, why?"
"If I listen to your least favorite song and I like it, that means it's a good album."
"Well... that... doesn't exactly make sense, all songs can be liked by different people—"
"I'm talking about from your perspective. If your least favorite is good, then in your perspective, it's a good album. And I like your music taste so far, so I think I can trust your opinions. Except for the fact that you don't like Car Seat Headrest."
"It was one song! Maybe I'd like the others if you played them for me!" I whined.
"Soon. For now, what's your least favorite song?"
"Uh... I guess... 'Sacred Beast'? I don't know, the lyrics are weird. I get that they were going for a whole medieval-kind-of-theme but it just didn't hit for me. It's still a good song, though. I like the melody and stuff, it's catchy."
Ari then counted the tracklist from the first song to Sacred Beast, reaching the number six. He then, like before, carefully slid the vinyl record out from the sleeve and—with his fingertips on the edges, cautious to not touch the top and bottom surfaces—placed it on the platter of the record player, A-side up. He then stared at the disc before turning on the player, reaching for the tonearm, and shifting it towards the middle of the record with care. He then turned on the player and flipped down a lever, slowly lowering the tonearm and needle down onto the vinyl.
And just like that, 'Sacred Beast' by Tally Hall was playing over the speakers of the store.
"How... How did you know the... the specific position to lower the needle to play the right song?"
"If you look really closely at the record, you can see these engraved lines in the PVC. You can also see spaces in-between each group of lines. These groups are the songs. I just counted them and lowered the needle on the sixth group. This is 'Sacred Beast', right?"
"Yeah, this is it."
Ari and I both went quiet to listen to the song playing over the speakers, filling the store with its melody. Some customers in the room looked up, the song catching their attention. The rest just kept shopping.
Every time I've tried to get someone to listen to a song I liked, they played it on Spotify or Apple Music or whatever for only a few seconds or so. Then, they would turn it off, saying some bullshit like, 'that's pretty good'.
Ari didn't do that. He closed his eyes and really paid attention to the music.
About a minute had gone by and we were still listening. "Did Joe Hawley write this one?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"I see what you mean by the lyrics being weird. Joe Hawley is a bit of a weirdo himself."
"Do you like it, though?"
"It's growing on me. I need to listen to the whole song in order to say anything about it, though."
I really respected that.
Arizona was someone who really valued music.
I really respected him.
"I have a record player at my house," Ari spoke up. "Do you want to, maybe... come over tonight after I finish work and listen to the whole album together? In my room?"
"That... sounds great."
"I like this song."
"So do I."