Most Unappealing Conversations in History, Part 8: I Really Appreciate Music. Wow

What follows are two actual conversations, about 45-60 days apart, overheard at a coffee shop in Phoenix on Sunday evening. I'm pretty sure it is the same girl, first with her mother then with a date. I think the date is the guy mentioned in the first conversation. I find the contrast fascinating. She is 27, blonde, in good shape, anglo-tan. Tertiary female role in Judd Apatow flick. For first conversation, wearing a wholesome white textured polyester dress, like they just had dinner somewhere nice, but wearing flats. For second conversation, some sort of printed cotton dress you'd see in piles at a farmer's market, awful mixture of beet red, black, & purple with shapes that approach some sort of symbol nobody would expend the energy to discern.

Girl and her mother
This was originally condensed into short hand, out-of-context quotes, and summaries/meta commentary, am reconstructing now after hearing the second conversation.

Girl: She just keeps going to parties every weekend, keeps drinking. She slowed down a little since...
Mother: I was really worried about that night. Still am.
Girl: I don't go out with her anymore. She met this one guy on OK Cupid, and they had 3 dates before he asked to be her boyfriend. 3 dates! Then, get this: It's only been a month, and he said he's in love with her. And she said she loves him back. Like, I don't even know what to do. She's always like...

(complains about this person inaudibly)

Girl: I just sat there for two hours. She seemed OK at first but then she started crying and I was like, "really?"
Mother: Well that's what friends do, hon!
Girl: Mom, you just aren't educated about this stuff.
Mother: If your friend was upset and crying, you just gotta listen.
Girl: No, I'm sick of being a people pleaser. I could have done anything but I just sat there listening.
Mother: I'm sure she'd do the same thing for you!
Girl: I would never make her do that.
Mother: But that doesn't matter, it's just what friends do.
Girl: You keep saying "that's what friends do" like it means something. You have no friends.
Mother: That's not true.
Girl: No, you just have people who come to you for stuff.
Mother: I have at least a few people-
Girl: Name even one friend.
Mother: I don't have to. I'm not-
Girl: See? You can't!
Mother: No just-
Girl: No, don't dodge the issue, mom. You don't have any friends, you just let people go in and out of your life when they need you. You're a people-pleaser.
Mother: Will you let me say anything? I'll admit that I am there for my friends, and some had a lot of problems.
Girl: You confuse friendship with pity. (missing section) He was just a rebound from dad, you know it's true. Then you married him and used him. He wasn't perfect but that wasn't fair. It always felt forced having him around.

(indistinct complaining about friends)

Girl: And now I live with them and it's just frustrating. Their problems are my problems. (repeats theme a bunch of times)

Girl: Someone will accept me for who I am instead of what I do for them.
Mother: Maybe you're helping people with their problems to avoid your own problems or learning about yourself?
Girl: No, I just have a problem because of my impulse to help these people. You do the same thing, you just need to get educated, then you'll learn. I'm always listening to people talk about their problems, and I'm like, I don't care. I mean, I do care, that's the problem. I just end up with these people who always need my help.

(editor's note: Haha, what if I asked her to watch my laptop?)
(same thing goes back and forth, starts to get heated)
Mother: I just don't understand how it was such a big deal that you listened to your friend talk about her issues.
Girl: What!? I didn't listen to her talk about her issues with me, I sat there at work listening to her crying with her dad on the phone! How did you not get that?
Mother: (laughing) That's not what you said!
Girl: No, I said it like 5 times.
Mother: Well then of course you shouldn't have sat there for all that time! You just sat there the whole time? Why would you do that?
Girl: I don't know, it just seemed like-
Mother: I don't think that's your friend's fault!
Girl: Now you're just trying to upset me.
Mother: I'm not!
Girl: Can we just be quiet for 2 minutes?

(Girl rests head on table and does breathing exercises, snaps at mom when she tries to speak. Eventually starts talking about trees and weather)

Mother: You can't spell 'natural' without 'nature'.
Girl: A park isn't nature. It's a patch of grass with dog shit in it.
Mother: But parks are fun!
Girl: You can't do something just because it's fun. Fun ends when you're little. Eventually everything stops being fun. We don't have the imagination of a kid.
Mother: I think it is healthy if you acted childish.
Girl: You wouldn't be worried if I was in the backyard talking to imaginary friends? 

(missing part)
Girl: (describing adulthood) Those dull moments where we are trying to escape are life. Joy is just the unexpected beautiful moments.

Girl: I hate being that person, the one everyone comes to talk to about their problems. When people come to me for help, and I always give it to them, for me it is so easy to see it is unhealthy.
Mother: If she gets that from you, she's gonna take it.
Girl: She calls me and says, 'I looked really cute today!' And I play into it by acting interested, playing right into it. I ask what she was wearing, but it's like, 'I don't give a shit!' I would not call someone and say, 'I looked cute today!'
Mother: She's probably on Facebook all the time.
Girl: Actually, she deleted her Facebook.

(subject changes to a boy who always asks her how her day was)
Girl: I'm not the type of person who is going to just say 'My day was this', like, you need to ask me, then I'll tell you. I don't like small talk, like who cares how your day was?
Mother: Well that's an ice breaker.
Girl: I don't get it. How is 'How was your day' an ice breaker? You don't get to know someone by asking how their day is. He just asked me about my day so he could talk about his day.
Mother: Well how was his day?
Girl: I wasn't even listening. Is that bad? I prefer conversations that have depth.
Mother: (laughing) You're a little snoot!
Girl: I guess that does sound a little stuck up

Now with a slightly hippie-looking guy
This is all verbatim, except where otherwise noted, with the extraneous material removed.

Guy: I basically plant trees in Paradise Valley.

Her: Paradise Valley is so beautiful! Wow, so you're like, a real human. You're working with the Earth, not like everyone else who works at a desk, like behind computers. Like, society is turning people into robots. (next sentence paraphrased for coherence) We're all losing touch with our ability to relate to one another. Like, the new iPhone has a chip in it so you don't even need to use a credit card. We're all like turning into robots. (inaudible part missing) And like, the radiation? No thanks.  (inaudible) We don't use our imagination anymore.

(he inaudibly mentions his music healing gig, which seems like something they've mentioned before)

Her: Music heals. Something about music... it's amazing. I really appreciate music... wow.

Her: (paraphrased) I'm an Autism consultant. I quit my corporate job years ago so I could like, be independent, then I started working for some friends for this Autism consulting firm, but somehow I am a vegan cook right now.

Her: I'm not a hippie. I have a lot of personalities ... I've seen a lot of documentaries ... I don't eat meat. I eat fish ... I've been trying to live an organic life. No chemicals or GMOs ... I never deprive myself ... I do a lot of yoga, I wanna teach yoga. I have a lot of interests.

Him: So do you like... smoke?

Her: I haven't in a long time.

Him: Sorry, I didn't mean to- 

Her: No, it's ok, it's cute.

Her: I smoked a lot like, when I was 18, then I got over it. I think the last time was when I was twenty so like, 7 years ago. I mean, it is OK that other people smoke pot, it doesn't bother me. As long as they have a job and like, don't do it every day, it's totally great. ... I'm very affectionate when I smoke.

Him: Oh yeah? That makes sense because like, it makes you feel more things. Like, everything feels good. ... All the sudden I realize this genre of music had so much going on, and I wouldn't have seen that if I wasn't open.

Her: I've read some articles (paraphrase) about how people can take pot for ADHD. I think that it makes sense. I have a theory, because so much of ADHD is about overstimulation. Instead of so much stimulation, maybe lower the senses.

Her: I am all about energy, and when I saw you I just knew I should talk to you at some point. ... I wanted to at least make sure I said bye every day.

Her: Yeah, no I don't like looking at my phone. People want to talk to me every day and I'm like, I have close friends I haven't spoken to in, y'know, 6 years but if I talk to them tomorrow, it'd be like no time has passed. But people will text me and call every day, people want to talk about their problems and I'm like, “Why are you telling me all this negative stuff?” I try to avoid Facebook, people always posting about bad things.

The Shredding

What follows is a true story, with inferences made, creative liberties taken, and names changed.

It's sunny, Saturday and Josh's parents' three-car garage smells like lawnmower gasoline. While his loyal bassist Rob slaps out Nintendo novelties as warm-up, Josh writes a list of what songs to run through, once the new guitarist arrives. He is late. Josh's hands are numb from an intense episode of weight lifting, so he only writes the first word of the songs. "Good" They are all songs in heavy rotation on Philly-area rock stations in 2002. "Under" Cam, the new guitarist, found their number on a posting at Guitar Center that advertised their need for a guitarist along the lines of Guns n Roses and Red Hot Chili Peppers. "Iron" Their drummer got into Berkley so he left. "Interstate" Cam's leads were sloppy but determined. He had shown up to every practice with a different pair of leather pants, which Josh found more exciting than a person should.

Rob the bassist was by far the most technically proficient of the group, but was either extremely repressed or still empty. He is missing the karate lessons or mind-blowing sex that would imbue his identity with drive, confidence, nuance… anything other than flawless bass runs replicating the work of the default heroes of latter teen white males. His hair is short and mouse brown, his loose t-shirt makes him look doughy. Despite his confident presentation, Josh's dark chestnut eyes withhold neither criticism nor personal terror. His outfit wicks sweat as efficiently as his voice produces unease. Carefully guided as though being thread into a machine with no exhaust vent, the sound is pressured and off pitch. Usually just above the note, which makes Cam wonder if he is crazy for noticing, especially since Rob is constantly telling him to retune his Gibson Les Paul, a particularly expensive and well-crafted instrument that ought to be able to withstand more than one song without requiring adjustment. Cam had greasy chin-length brown hair and aviators on at all times, wearing a dirty white Batman shirt and leather pants with black Italian dress shoes. His pockets bulged with cigarettes, wallet, and a flask of gin. He resembled an A & R guy from 1988, or a Zippo ad.

In Josh's Words

So I'm listening to Cam play and thinking, "Man, this guy's chops are shaky but he's really got that style we're looking for." I mean, not just the awesome pants and whatever, but I'm listening and I'm like, "His leads are just so full of energy, I can feel it." And that's important. I know Rob doesn't like him, but he'll come around. I wish he wouldn't stop us so much and just let us get through the song and work out the imperfections later. He has a point though, Cam's rhythm a bit chaotic and uneven. I should just trust Rob. He's like, the true musician of the group. He's so gonna be the voice of reason when we get big.

We're still working on "Good Times, Bad Times", and it's a little above my range but I think I'm doing alright. It's hard to tell though, Cam's guitar keeps going out of tune. I'm glad Rob has perfect pitch, keeps us on our toes.

So I tell everyone to take 15 so my voice can rest, and I'm waiting for Cam to finish yet another story. I try not to let Rob's facial expressions affect me, but I'm like, "Do you know how conversations work?" It's like he's trying to be a standup comic, but instead of punchlines he just starts another story. Worst of all, he apologizes for talking too much and is like, "So what are you guys doing tonight?", then starts talking again! Now that I think of it, what am I doing tonight? I have to write a report for that market simulation thing for macroeconomics, that's due Tuesday and I don't even know what I'm summarizing yet. I hope we can get through practice soon, it's crazy that I'm even doing this today. I probably won't even have time to go running.

So Cam is rocking out some riffs, and I'm thinking, "I was bobbing my head before, bro, but now I'm not. Don't you think that means you should stop so we can move on?" Then he stops as Ariella approaches with the dog, and he checks her out hardcore. I'm telling myself, "Cam, not cool. You know that's my sister." Oh god, don't try to chat her up! She couldn't be less interested in this, she only listens to Top 40. She is completely indifferent to music. Sorry sis, but you know it's true.

Rob says "How about we try that Chili Peppers song?" We play it all the way through for once, though Cam has a few false starts on the beginning. We were gonna run through it again, but Cam suggests we go find a new song. What the hell? I mean, I noticed he wasn't too excited about the Chili Peppers, which disappointed me a little because they're like my favorite band. I guess the guitar parts are a little boring for him, but he needs to learn how to take the back seat sometimes. I can tell Rob agrees, he's giving me that look. We convince him to do a few run-thrus, but then he asks to use the bathroom. That's what that break was for 5 minutes ago, dude! Whatever though, Rob and I will run through it, you can go ahead and make my house smell like cigarettes, that's fine.

Oh man, what's this guy doing to us here? We've gone through the song like, 3 times now since he left and I'm telling myself, "I gotta go check in on Cam before Rob starts freaking out." So I go in, OK, and he's not in the bathroom. I walk through the living room to check the other bathroom, still no Cam. Is he in one of the upstairs bathrooms? I head through the family room past the kitchen towards the stairs, and I find him… it doesn't even matter what he's doing, but it clearly shows his total lack of dedication to the band.

So practice is over. I help carry his amp as Rob plays his bass unplugged, doesn't even look at him when he says "bye". As soon as he's in his car, I look at Rob and say, "So he's out, right?" Rob says, "Oh yeah, big time." "And not just because of the whole thing with my sister… though that was pretty obnoxious." "Nah man, he's just not there yet, technically." "And he's an asshole." "That too. And what was up with that Jewish comment?" "I didn't even know what to say about that shit. And the way he just stood there in the kitchen all cocky, like nothing was wrong." "Someone needs to shoot down his ego." "Were you playing the Jeopardy song when you were unplugged?" Rob smiles in mock sheepishness. "Haha, that's awesome! You're awesome!"

In Rob's Words

I can't believe we're still playing this song.

I don't know why Josh keeps giving him chances. We'd be better off not practicing at all and trying to recruit someone else.

Why did we start with something so guitar-heavy? "Under the Bridge" is all chords, we should have done that first. As if he could even handle that, I mean he's off the mark on even the loosest strum patterns.

Alright Josh, you need to start taking your voice lessons seriously. How can we play live if you're constantly going sharp? How many times can I tell Cam to retune before you get the hint?

What the hell? It's like he can never play the same thing twice.

Maybe I should suggest we assign each other homework. I'd tell him to just strum through basic chords in a simple rock beat for a two hours every day. You have to go through points A & B before you start point C. I doubt he has the focus to do that, but I mean, that's how all the legends started. Gotta start with the basics. Josh may not be perfect but man, he works at it.

If we have to do this song one more time I'm gonna suggest we just remove the guitar solos.

C'mon Josh, your voice is not tired, you are. I don't know why he can't work out after band practice.

Great, second hand smoke will do wonders for Josh's voice. And more booze. How can someone with their mouth engaged in multiple vices still talk over everyone?

Ok, done being polite, just going to start playing my bass unplugged until we start again.

Uh, no Cam. You have no chance with Josh's sister. She's looking grim. Did she spot someone with more expensive sunglasses? Did she run into one of the quarterbacks she used to bone on his way back up to Columbia for the semester and have to explain where she was going?

He wants to make us learn more songs? He has yet to coherently play any of the ones he already made us learn, but he wants more?

Yes, bathroom break, because that is what we need, more standing around.

Ok, it's been like half an hour. I hope Josh just tells him to leave.

Finally. Ugh, time to go put up new flyers.

Cam's Story

Rob requests another retune. This time, Cam just pretends he is turning the knobs but not actually doing anything. Sure enough, Rob is satisfied after a few plucks. Cam has a theory that 90% of people who claim to have perfect pitch are just trying to seem interesting and get laid.

After 2 successful runs of a classic Led Zeppelin tune in an hour, Josh's voice needed a break the same way Cam needed a smoke, so they sat in front of the garage and talked of their weekend plans. Josh had to study, Rob was working on some nondescript computer startup thing, and Cam planned to go to the beach, but wasn't sure which one, which blossomed a pleasant topic. Josh and Rob related their nice times at various shore towns, but were dominated by Cam's tall tales of inebriated adventures with strangers, minor property damage, and generalizations about certain shore towns. "Yeah, Margate is lame, full of rich JAPs with bullet-proof tits." Josh gives a diplomatic laugh and asks what a JAP is. "Wait, fuckin'... you live in Jersey and have never heard 'JAP' before? It stands for Jewish American Princess. Like, chicks that are super spoiled by daddy who owns banks." Rob has begun noodling with his unplugged bass. "Oh ok. Well, I'm half Jewish, so… I guess that makes me half Margate-ian?" A moment settled into place as Cam lit another cigarette, jacked up his amp distortion and went into a riff he kept playing in the hopes that it would spawn a legend.

Rob and Josh were sharing glances as Cam was loudly trying to make that anthemic riff that would render all guitar playing superfluous, looking very pleased with himself. A woman approaches who seemed to have a sort of Stockholm Syndrome with her own attractiveness. Cam watches her still on the sidewalk with a dog; she looks demurely downward and away from herself, hiding from neighborhood dads inside an XL t-shirt that only drew more attention to her boobs. "A St. Thomas t-shirt?" Cam decided that nobody so disengaged and melancholy could possibly enjoy St. Thomas, so it must be ironic. "The same way I don't really like Batman!" Cam abruptly stops playing and rallies Josh & Rob's attention to his cocked eyebrow and unmistakable intention. They look confused, and Cam wonders for a moment about their sex organs. She turns up the short driveway and flashes Cam the most platonic smile that ever failed to serve its purpose. Cam tried to explain what garage bands are while offering her his flask. She declines and comments dryly to Josh about the dog's latest bowel movement, then recommends they have fun as she closes the door into the house. Josh looks embarrassed, "Yeah, that's my sister." Cam is looking for any way to bring practice inside for a bit. "Hey how's your internet here? Maybe we should like, listen to some more songs?" Josh and the bassist share a look as Rob replies, "I don't know, I think we should get through one of the songs we've already picked. And learned." "She seemed so bothered", thought Cam, wistfully. "Clearly she hates this town. So do I! We'll run away together. I'll drop out of school, we'll move to the west coast and make music. We'll sound like Joy Division, but with soaring melodic guitar solos." He loses track of Josh's comments about his playing of what he secretly deems "Yet another boring Chili Peppers song", imagining ways he can show Josh's sister that he totally knows about angst. Cam excuses himself to use the bathroom, hoping to see her on the way.

Cam imagined that she would be in the kitchen doing something futile, like chopping fruit. Was the kitchen on the way to the bathroom? Not so much abandoning as forgetting his alibi, he walks straight past the open door to the bathroom and into the empty kitchen. Struggling to ignore that his presence in these rooms was growing more inexplicable with each intrusive step, he continued through the living room, past another bathroom, and starts up the stairs when Josh's mom walks through the front door directly behind him. Cam's sheepishness is misinterpreted as something she could find endearing as he offers to assist her with groceries, hoping maybe to deliver a bag of produce to Josh's sister. He is coming up with possible dry one-liners about fruit and dog bowel movements, and is interrupted when Josh approaches and apologizes in monotone for his mom enlisting him to help with groceries. Inundated with embarrassment and failure, Cam can only express himself by leaning against a door jamb and smelling like cigarettes. Josh enumerates his afternoon plans to his mother and tells her practice is over. He never tells Cam that practice is over, instead just goes out and helps carry his gear to his car. Cam is excited that he got away with his raid and drives off to the coast singing minor key declarations and inventing places to meet Ariella.

Cam was never formally kicked out, Josh just stopped returning his calls or texts. The rejection, paired with the knowledge that he'll not likely get the chance to see Josh's sister again, drove Cam into a brief depression that would preclude his auditioning for any more bands. He spent the remainder of summer being dragged by friends to shows in VFW halls full of insufferable straight-edge kids, lamenting the death of the guitar solo to anyone who would listen. Ridicule drove him to take his case to online message boards. That is where someone instructed him to purchase Jeff Buckley's "Grace". He spent Fall finding places to stare at trees and quietly cry for something that he had not yet seen destroyed but knew he would because of what he'd begun building.

Infinite Alibi

I left in the car
Tried to make it to deepest green
Before the weather caused a scene
You were computer face then

I skid into safety
Familiar enough with the scent
Of burnt water from your descent
When we yelled at who you are

I chewed in a way
To commemorate the jagged lights
Of weaponized reflection nights
That tore like children play

If there was such a hat
We would wear our losses down below the legs
Like we were candles of erectile dysfunction
Neglected junk in a hot trunk

Having planted holes
And handed out roles

You broke out

Then broke in

Chanted, "Let the righteous shout,

And the killing begin!"

A pinwheel-powered car
Driven by a solar-powered drunk
Crashed through the garage
You thought it was me
You thought I was morning
Did the damp leaves of decay
Stick to your feet as you surveyed,
Stumbled, then sat?

Bereft of all impulse and peering
Thru the window with no sill
A stenographer with no need of hearing
I watch from the deep green still

It's All in the Alveoli

As a brick in the cellular Fortress of Annoyance,
You watch the two-step of phony clairvoyance
"And the dance begot the dust"
Taste it
Taste the hate
Taste it
Before it's too late
Before you write the national anthem
And all other language dies
Bricks like you cry the morning dew
The sun quietly dries
I think the sun is built
From time and existence alone
With no signature of guilt
But only the sun can be unknown
Surrounded by unmade lives that live
And this fortress was all it had to give
So lean against that loathsome wall
To push toothpicks
Through your skin
Push them deep until you fall
And burn it with
Your pure inner light
We have each and all
Bathe in the smoke
Disguise your scent
So no one knows where you went
Until the smoke wears off
And you land
And you're too ciliated and free
To get caught as
What you don't want to be