There's nothing quite like it. It's calming and relaxing and sexy and makes me feel lonelier than most things. While listening, and I realize I have no one to think of in that way. In that sexy jazzy you-are-mine-and-perfect-for-me way.
When I hear jazz, my mind's eye sees a small apartment and a city view of night lights. It's a solitary picture. Another scene of my own isolation. Something calm and rejuvenating and lonely. The same self image I have of myself alone, hidden from the world, in the quietness of jazz. And at the same time, lonely. The examination, thorough. The dichotomy, fascinating.
Barnes and Noble sounded quiet until I started working there. Now, I hear all the sounds my ears never picked up before. People being paged, phones ringing, PDTs beeping, same music, the constant hustle of the store being run. I was ignorant and unaccustomed. Now I sit in the overstuffed chairs and I hear two separate worlds. The quiet, undisturbed peace of a customer surrounded in books. The busy, hectic, noisy business of an employee running a bookstore.
Tea and jazz, the ultimatum of a quiet, lonely night.
Lonely isn't always bad.
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