Real Taste
Rooted in an innocuous comment from my gas station attendant observing that I keep their boss ordering my cigarettes.
It occurs to me suddenly that I spent my whole adult life developing my palate. Literally and figuratively.
A long line sat before me today for a simple meeting with a popular horror clown. Shared statements with the runner of a popular video distributor over the poor quality of the films in question resulted in me perusing a selection of under the table adult films that would cost me nothing but discretion. My strange proclivities again identifying me as someone with "real taste".
I spent the evening watching esteemed trash of early capitalism. My love for the obscure excitedly places me in Front of a Densha De Go plug and play. My knowledge of the thing and excitement over it's neiche periferal outing me as "cool" once again.
I wonder how I got here. The answer seems to be simply finding the things I enjoy and burying my head in their loose sand. I suppose I'm the same way with the people I love as well...
At the end of the day I just fucking wanna play trains.