Indie Tristan (indieglamorous) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2008-07-16 21:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | indie, tattoos |
Who: Indie and Tattoo
When: evening
Where: 5th Avenue
Rating: TBD
Today had been a good one for Indie, and a busy one too. He'd already turned one kid on to Morrissey, educated another on the art of collecting vinyl, and persuaded about twelve to give up Starbucks for life. He'd procured huge amounts of KEXP.org bumper stickers and pins to put on the counter at work, and nearly all of them were gone by noon. Plus, he'd subtly encouraged at least twenty customers to register and vote Obama. He'd even hopped on his Macbook during a break to donate another $30 to the campaign, then checked in with a few favorite local bands on Myspace to see how their street teams were doing. Later, after his shift, he'd even made some calls to book them a few gigs each while he was feeling generous. After that, he'd papered quite a few power lines with flyers and gave stacks to trendy, alternative passersby, who suddenly had the desire to go and continue his work about the neighborhood.
Nobody ever really questioned him about these things-- he made suggestions, they listened. It was wonderful.
There were just some days when he really felt the drive to make a difference; it was just his nature. A few people at a time eventually added up to a whole lot more. He rather liked the grassroots approach. It was so personable and provided him with so much satisfaction. He soaked up the adoration of his followers like a cheerful sponge-- simply being in a locally-owned coffee shop gave him a far better boost of energy than caffeine ever could. Though that was nice too.
As the hot afternoon air finally started to cool with the setting of the sun, he meandered his way down the city streets, skinny jeans rolled up to his mid calves, his layered tank tops still clinging slightly to his back, his gauzy scarf tickling his neck. He looked up, frowned at all the upscale shops around him-- Sacs, Coach, Tiffany's. What a load of shit, paying so much money on that kind of crap. Humans were so excessive, sometimes.
He sighed, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. He was suddenly in the mood for something exciting. He turned to the very next person to walk by him, asking without hesitation, "Hey there, wanna join me in a ridiculous adventure?"