My hands shook as I pushed open the door to the record shop. It was a maze of music. New releases followed by "Goldie Oldies". There were a couple other people in there, some looked to be teenagers. This must have been the hangout place for young rockers. At least, during the day. I walked up to the counter hoping to see someone I could talk to. There was no help wanted sign out front but it was worth a try. Finally an older man with glasses came out from the back and saw me there. "Hi," he said, his Aussie accent hard to miss. "Need somethin'?"

I can do this, I can do this...

"Are you by any chance hiring?" I asked, my voice cracking about a hundred times. I braced myself waiting for the rejection. He didn't need any help, he wasn't hiring, don't call us we'll call you, have a nice day....

"You lookin' for a job?" he asked. I nodded, my hopes rising. He gave me a discouraging expression. "I dunno, business isn't booming here enough to warrant help, really..." My hopes smashed to pieces on the floor. I must have hung my head a little too much cause he looked at me with sympathy. "You sixteen?"

"Twenty four," I said. He raised his eyebrows.

"You're kiddin'," he said. "I haven't hired an adult in years, it's usually kids with summer jobs." He looked behind him towards the back rooms. "Listen, if you come with me I'll show ya' what you can do for a bit of money. If you don't want to, there's probably some work needed nearby."

I felt nervous. What could he possibly need done at the back of the store?

I followed him to the back rooms keeping a good distance. He pulled out a bunch of boxes from shelves and dropped them on the ground in front of me. They were packed to bursting with records. I coughed on the dust. 

"These are some albums I haven't gotten around yet to stockin'," he said. "Some are new, some are older than I am. If ya' want you can go around the store an' set 'em up, makin' sure they're in the right places. Don't want Black Sabbath where Cat Stevens should go, ya' know?" I nodded, feeling more at ease. "The new releases have several copies so you can jus' lump 'em all together. At the end of the day I'll give ya' ten dollars, how's that sound?"

Ten dollars was enough to buy me the paper and pens. Not enough to get by on, but it would get me started. I held my hand out. He smiled and shook it.

"Alright, come find me when you're done."

After he left I rifled through the boxes pulling out records with the most beautiful sleeves I'd ever seen. I owned a couple records myself but most of my music came on CDs. Those wouldn't be out for another five years. Some were bands I'd never heard of, and most were bands I hadn't listened to yet. I couldn't see any AC/DC. Powerage must not have been new enough. But some albums were so old, the covers were already aging. Old blues albums and jazz albums and even one Beethoven. There were at least fifteen boxes to go through so I wanted to make this as quick as possible. I couldn't miss the show tonight!

Taking all the records out of the boxes I made separate piles on the floor, organizing them by band name. The new releases were the easiest, they were already all together. When all the records were in their proper piles, I grabbed the first stack in the line and headed out to find the correct shelf. 

The shelves were labeled with music genres. I wasn't any expert on what bands were which and it was difficult knowing where to put a lot of them. Some bands dominated their genre and filled up the entire shelf with their music. I got those stocked up right away and others took some time. 

Where the fuck does Mott the Hoople go?

I was working for what felt like a long time. I had tied my jacket around my waist and worked up quite a sweat carrying the records around. As the day wore on and school let out the shop got busier and I had to carefully weave my way around. Sometimes a kid would stop by and ask to look at a copy of whatever group I was holding. I appreciated when they took one as it lightened my load. 

My stomach started growling again and I was thirsty. The back room had a water dispenser and paper cups so I took a good long drink, hoping this wouldn't come out of my paycheck. In a couple of hours I had finished my work and went to find the man who ran the store, wiping my brow and rubbing my shoulder blade. 

He was helping someone at the checkout counter so I waited for him to finish. My eyes wandered around the room and caught sight of a few old flyers posted to the wall. Neon green with a picture of AC/DC on the front, dates and times of upcoming concerts. It looked new, and I smiled to see today's show was labeled at the top of the list. Every single upcoming concert was right here in Australia. 

They weren't leaving anytime soon. 

"Take care," the man said putting the money in the register. "Finished already?"

I walked up to the counter, taking one of the flyers with me and keeping my eyes locked on it. When I finally looked up, the man was holding out a twenty dollar note. 

"I know I said ten," he said. "But ya' did all that an' didn't even ask for a break. So I figured you earned it." I couldn't believe my ears. I did it! I was no stranger to physical labor for money but I had never felt as proud of myself as I did just now. Maybe because I was in a strange place all on my own... 

I took the money gratefully. "Thank you," I said. I still wasn't used to Australian money. 

"Take care of yourself," the man said as I left the record store. Pocketing my paycheck and my flyer I ran down the street back to where the stationary shop was. Just as I was about to push the door open I noticed a sign hanging on the front. 

Out to Lunch

Out to lunch???

I could just see a tiny clock on the wall inside the store that read 4:15. Bit of a late lunch. My stomach roared again and I thought I could use some "lunch" myself. That diner I went to yesterday sounded pretty good but I had no idea where it was. I wasn't about to call a cab and spend all my hard earned money. It wasn't an emergency yet. I was almost tempted to give Bon a ring and see if he was busy with anything. 

He probably was. Being a rockstar takes a lot of time out of your day, chances are he wasn't even at the hotel. I jogged down the street toward Shellton Road and looked for The Python again. It was still there, and still empty. There was a light on, though, and one person was inside taking chairs off the tables and wiping them down. I left before he spotted me. 

There was another diner another block away and I went inside, ordering a packet of fries and a bottle of water to go. I was starving and starting to feel faint again. On a normal day I didn't eat very much but I had barely eaten a thing in several hours. Nothing of nutritional benefit, that's for damn sure. 

While I scarfed down my fries, someone inside the stationary store had taken the sign down and I welcomed myself inside. And breathed a sigh of home. 

Notebooks and tablets, pens and pencils, construction paper and envelopes...this store had it all. There were even some stamp kits and bookmarks with tassels. The notebooks were plentiful, most bearing solid colors. A few had stripes or polka dots. I was hoping to find something a bit more sparkly but all I could find were superheros and the Beatles. 

Beatles were tempting...but I was a Spider-Man fan...but I was also a Beatles fan....the Spider-Man one was cheaper....oh, but the Wonder Woman one was even less expensive! The woman at the counter was filing her nails, once in a while looking up to see if I had made a choice yet. I wasn't sure how much business this place saw in a day but it didn't look like much. I picked up a notebook with Wonder Woman on it and a pack of black pens. I handed over the twenty dollars and got a decent amount of change back. She thanked me and I took the bag with me out of the store, balancing it and my lunch. After throwing the empty packet of fries away I found a bench to sit on and set my water down next to me. 

Now...how to start this off....