can I control the radio knob with my mind?

Frank Lister says good morning and he hopes you all had a restful night of sleep. The environment in which I now live has gotten pretty freaking crazy. Some weird shit is going on with me and with everything around me. This morning I woke up, made a quick call trying to locate Bryce and then stepped out around the corner for coffee. As soon as I stepped in the door of the Flying Saucer, I noticed it. I mean right away. Usually in the morning there is a line. People getting their drug on in the morning. And this morning was no different. The douche bag that I HATE was behind the counter. He doesn’t really acknowledge you because he is too busy musing on his own existence and over the fact that his thought process will revolutionize modern art for the next millennia. You know that guy? The music selection was bad (as it always is with this guy). It was some Indian meditative morning jazz bullshit. I need some punk rock in the morning, you know? The Bronx or some Bikini Kill or Minor Threat. I don’t need somebody playing a sitar that is basically playing a lullaby to lull me into sleep. Hey jackass, why do you think I am ordering a RED-EYE? It has shots of espresso in it. I want to WAKE UP! Anyway, all of that is the normal part. What’s abnormal is the fact that as soon as I passed the threshold of the establishment my brain started to race. I started to tune in. I heard the music and immediately I thought of Jay Reatard and then 50 foot Wave. My next observation was the line. I could hear everyone’s conversations and started realizing how annoyed I was with what people were talking about. Almost instantaneously I started to hear new conversations about puppet shows and one about the merits of eating paste as a child and one about mowing the grass while wearing slippers. Really off beat stuff, you know? At one point I envisioned these 2 guys (who actually looked like 2 people I would like to know) talking at once. Oddly it was all stuff that normally would make me start to laugh. At that moment too, I thought about Bryce. For a minute I felt like he was there. Sitting in the corner. This scenario would be something that he and I would totally laugh about (especially since we started hanging out with TED and weird shit follows him around). So the music switches, the conversations become weird and most conveniently the line parted for me like the RED SEA and Moses. Everyone looked at me like I was carrying two tablets about to drop the rules of the world and they all just parted. I walked to the front of the line and the douche bag was gone, nowhere to be found. In his place was the normal weekend guy. The one who is nice and talks to you and doesn’t think he is better than you or smarter than you. He enjoys serving you coffee and providing VEGAN treats periodically. A guy who provides a great coffee experience. He was there and he waited on me, even offering to pay for my coffee. “For you, It’s on the house” he said. Wow! That felt good. What I thought was going to be a terrible moment in my day, a horrible way to kick things off turned into a great time of my life. A little thing to think about throughout the day to help me move on in this life. I got great music (more specifically the exact music I wanted to hear), interesting conversation (the kind I like to eavesdrop on), premium front of the line service and the respect of my barista. AND FREE COFFEE (free drugs). I stuck around long enough to hear the end of the song (Scars on Broadway-THEY SAY) and headed for the door. As soon as I heard the little bell on the back of the door clang against the door and I took the first step outside I heard it. I heard the voice of that douche bag behind the counter, all smarmy and smart ass. I heard the ridiculous music again, the chimes and new age lullaby bull shit that he usually plays. I heard the absolutely asinine conversations from the people in line. Everything that I HATED just a few minutes earlier, that I thought had magically changed, was back, as though they always were. I stuck my head back in and sure enough it was that horrible taste in my mouth again. It just seemed so real only a couple of minutes before. I stood right outside the door, and took a sip of that coffee and it was the WORST cup of coffee I had ever had.


Then two of the guys that were in line in front of me came out, stopped, looked over at me and said “Congratulations man”.(this was odd to me, what are they congratulating me for?  What did I do?) So as they are walking away, one of them looks at the other and says ‘What were we talking about?” and the other guy says, “We were talking about the merits of eating paste as a child.”

I took another sip of coffee and it was the best tasting coffee that I had ever had.