The girl asks an elder gentleman in a white shirt with small, peculiar tools in his pocket. He drinks whiskey while the girl drinks orange juice. He has a box of vinyl records, ranging from classic to modern songs.
“It is an object for enjoyment. You use it to play a song wherever you need relaxation.”
He reply to her answer as he sip a somewhat bitter drink down his throat.
“So you can listen to music over and over again? That sounds fantastic. I always wanted to hear the song that used to be played on the radio, but Mr. Bartender tends to switch to different channels.”
The girl makes a side eye to the bartender, who quietly cleans his equipment. He doesn’t reply to the girl.
“Anyway, have you ever played any of those records?, do you have any recommendations?”
Her curious face makes the man slide over a box, opening a new world for the girl. She looks over every record in the box as she listens to the man.
“I don’t know if I ever had my favorite record. Since people switched to modern records like a portable radio player or a tape, people tend to forget about the presence of vinyl records. It has become more of a collectible rather than a playable object. Maybe it's because of the complications of vinyl record players and the cost of maintenance that drive people away. I did have a chance to pass down my skill to others, but it doesn’t seem to help them in any meaningful way to keep the business running smoothly.”
He sigh as he pull out a small tool box I from his shirt pocket.
“Maybe it time for me to hang up my craft and retired.”
The girl looks up to him with a slightly shocked face before turning her face down, driving into the box as she mentions something to the man.
“Maybe not everything is meant to be lost forever, as long as one still remembers, the song will be echoed in one’s heart.”
The old man flinched as he heard the girl's words. Before he could say anything, the bartender flipped the light switch, showing another side of the shop with a record player on a classic wooden cupboard beside a wooden stage.
“Hey, if you wouldn’t mind, can you fix that player? So maybe you can use your skill for the last time.”
The bartender invites him to showcase his skills at the bar. The man hesitates but is inclined to patch up an old player. As he fixes the device, the girl and the bartender watch from the sidelines.
When the man completes his work, he looks at one of his master pieces, satisfied with his ability and remembering the good old days as the owner of a place where vinyl record lovers gathered.
“Should we test it with this record?”
“Sure, which one do you like?”
The girl handed an old man one of the records from the box. This record recalls a collection of classic songs. As the man put the record on the stand, he turned on the player. The vinyl record player played a musical piece with brass instruments and a woman's voice. The man was stunned momentarily as he recalled dancing to this song with his wife in his shop.
“What is the name of this song?, Mr. Bartender”
“I don’t remember it, kids, do you know this song?”
The man cleaned out a small tear from the corner of his eyes as he turned to them.
“It is called La vie en Rose by Edith Piaf. The song is about a world through a pink glass.”
“It is a lovely song. I like it.”
The girl becomes cheerful as she dances along.
“Would you mind if I buy this record from you?”
“Don’t worry, child, you can have it. Take it as a gift for today's drinks”
He knelt and hugged her tightly. She smiled, then put a dime in his shirt pocket.
He got up and shook the bartender's hands. He grabbed the box as he walked out of the back door.
The girl gave him a goodbye with a pretty big smile on her face.
“At least, he is happy with his job, right?”
The bartender asked the girl, who was still playfully dancing along with the next song.
“Yeah, now I can listen to the music I like without bothering your radio again hehe”
The girl giggles as she walks over to sit down, catching her breath after extended periods of movement.
“Today's bill reminds me of that vintage stuff from that time. What would the next meal look like, I wonder?”
