Well, we should have known better, but we went to Best Buy again, the scene of battle titanic over 60 inches of overpriced technology.
This time we found a perfectly priced MP3 player for me, along with arm band and were heading to the cashier when Keith stopped, his eye caught by some keyboards.
"Ours is getting a little worn out," he said. "What do you think of this one?"
I tried it, I liked it. I looked at the sticker price. It was a hundred dollars.
Cue epic battle number two.
"Keith," I said, enunciating carefully, "It is a key board. For a hundred dollars."
"Yeah, but it's cool, it lights up in the dark."
"Listen to me," I said, desperate. "It's a keyboard for a hundred dollars. One hundred dollars."
"No it's not, it's ninety nine dollars."
That store is not for the faint of heart.
Then we got home and I went jogging with music and it was a revelation. Don't try jogging without music, it's hardly worth doing. The joy, the deep, abiding joy of ripping into the steep hillside at the end of my run, with Nickelback's heart pounding back beat and harsh, gravely voiced lyrics throbing in my head was something else indeed.
I think I've figured out my story. I see how it should end, and it makes me sad. Though it's a happy ending, of course. I heard this line and I thought, it's the last line.
"I remember you dreamed once of flying, didn't you? If you like, I can teach you how to do that in waking life."
(Um...yes please?)
Or something like that. Without the parenthetical comment, naturally.
