Before you can play the guitar… (part 2)

Need to catch up on part 1? (click here)

My birthday sucker punched me this year. Out of nowhere, blaaamo, right in the gut. What’s a girl to do in the middle of an age crisis? And don’t let the fact I can still get away with using “girl” as my descriptor put a damper on your sympathies. Lest we forget, wrinkles start in our twenties. I’ve given my husband a forehead full of them already, and it’s only a matter of time before he pays me back.

There’s only one place to go when you find yourself in full crisis mode, birthday or otherwise, and that’s to your friendly neighbourhood pawn shop. I was on a mission. I was buying a guitar, right there, right then, no matter what. It was so clear in my mind. I could be one of those chill myspace music chicks. That’s the fantasy, right? Perez would discover me and my talent would explode out of radios all over the world. Within weeks I’d be sitting at the mile long mahogany conference table at Interscope Records, pen poised over my million dollar contract. Ya, so clear in my head. But then the big boss would lean in, just before I could sign, and whisper: “I’m so sorry. You’re just too old for this.” – groan

Put yourself in the shoes of an “ancient”, desperate (yet desperately trying to play it cool), backpack wearing blond, who knows next to nothing about playing guitar, even less about buying one, and nothing at all about pawn shop etiquette. Ready for part 3? 


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