mollypeck: When I first moved to Savannah, I lived a block from Home Run Video (initially the sport reference turned me off, but it was actually a great combination video rental/ comics store/ odd-magazine newsstand that seemed to have nothing, in fact, to do with sports). If I was alone, sometimes I would kill hours pretending to pick out a movie (I had no tv or vcr), reading the backs of all of the boxes hoping to be able to catch references if they came up later, or deciding what I would suggest we rent if I ever came back with a boy (a boy with a vcr, that is).  I studied the guys who hung out there, poring over comics (silent and intent, handling them with great care and a possessiveness bordering on secrecy) or entering with purpose and leaving quickly with the newest issue of Sandman or Enigma, but I could not figure them out; they would move away if I came too close. I’d fill my arms with the most exotic-seeming magazines I could find (O, Propaganda, Splosh, Michael Alig’s Project-X), hoping one of them was the convesation-starter, the in that would give him the nerve to approach me, but I always spent my grocery-money for the week and left alone. Many of the titles were sealed in plastic, so sometimes I couldn’t determine their niche until I got them home. In a lavender-covered journal of erotic poetry (which, in my memory, seems to have had “lilac” or “orchid” in the title, and which at the time I took to mean that it was lesbian erotica, though now I’m not so sure) I read the awful combination of words “vertical smile”. It still makes me shudder.

mollypeck:

When I first moved to Savannah, I lived a block from Home Run Video (initially the sport reference turned me off, but it was actually a great combination video rental/ comics store/ odd-magazine newsstand that seemed to have nothing, in fact, to do with sports). If I was alone, sometimes I would kill hours pretending to pick out a movie (I had no tv or vcr), reading the backs of all of the boxes hoping to be able to catch references if they came up later, or deciding what I would suggest we rent if I ever came back with a boy (a boy with a vcr, that is).  I studied the guys who hung out there, poring over comics (silent and intent, handling them with great care and a possessiveness bordering on secrecy) or entering with purpose and leaving quickly with the newest issue of Sandman or Enigma, but I could not figure them out; they would move away if I came too close. I’d fill my arms with the most exotic-seeming magazines I could find (O, Propaganda, Splosh, Michael Alig’s Project-X), hoping one of them was the convesation-starter, the in that would give him the nerve to approach me, but I always spent my grocery-money for the week and left alone. Many of the titles were sealed in plastic, so sometimes I couldn’t determine their niche until I got them home. In a lavender-covered journal of erotic poetry (which, in my memory, seems to have had “lilac” or “orchid” in the title, and which at the time I took to mean that it was lesbian erotica, though now I’m not so sure) I read the awful combination of words “vertical smile”. It still makes me shudder.

(via jackscoresby)

Oct 17. 31 Notes.

Notes

  1. callmecrass reblogged this from jackscoresby
  2. caehl reblogged this from jackscoresby
  3. prestonrittenhouse said: Wonderful story. And then….?
  4. jackscoresby reblogged this from mollypeck
  5. gazzamie said: Even now, i still find it hard to strike up a conversation with a stranger. It so rarely happens that someone starts talking to me, i don’t know how to react, ha ha.
  6. hotangrybruises said: I could have been one of those boys once upon a time. I wouldn’t have talked to you either, though I’d have given anything for you to talk to me.
  7. gazzamie reblogged this from mollypeck
  8. mollypeck posted this