I woke up today in the same mood I went to bed with the previous night. That mood was a bit black, not pitch, but certainly a moonlight free night with only the occasional pinhole of starlight black. So with my dark cloud hovering at a jaunty angle I consumed a cup of coffee and a bowl of Froot Loops (don’t judge me). Wearing my best fugue, I headed off to get some check the opshop and get some more milk, as I had used the last of it in the aforementioned sugary breakfast treat.
I arrived at the opshop, found the carapace that wasn’t being taken up by someone incapable of parking between the lines, not as easy to find as it should be. I mean the reason they paint the lines there is to show you where to park, but hey you’ve got a great big fuck you 4wd you can just do what you like, you don’t care if people think you’re a wanker…. ummm where was I? Oh yeah that’s right the opshop. So I do my regular search pattern, records, bric-a-brac, furniture, jewelry and books. That order is not arbitrary, it is the most efficient plan of attack for that particular opshop, and the most efficient way to get to all the good stuff before the meandering no plan losers that miss all the good stuff. Yes I am a model of efficient bastardry when it comes to opshops, markets and garage sales.
I had almost finished the lap and was coming up empty handed, and my mood wasn’t improved by the lack of endorphin inducing bargains. So I’m at the end of my opshop dance routine, comencing the grand finale of a quick scan of the book section. My last chance for a small hit of thrifty satisfaction lay in the musky bit.
And satisfaction was had, while checking to see what edition a copy of Life, The Universe and Everything by Douglas Adams, one of my favorite authors. I found this –
…and my day suddenly seemed a whole lot better. Something about finding that signature triggered some of the good shit in my brain. My first time reading Hitchers, watching the TV show with my Dad and stepmother in a terrace house on a tiny TV. My visit to Highgate Cemetery to leave a pen at his grave.
A long dark tea time of day was suddenly a plentiful with fish.