Bargain Basket Baller

[Buko]

Beats' Beats: Young Dolph - Eddie Cane The door to Off The Record was flung open with far too much eagerness and child like abandon to have been done by a six foot three inched, one-hundred and eighty pound grown ass man...

But, really, ain't I only that legally?

Ace Ortega was coated in sweat, he had ridden his Honda Ruckus over to Off The Record almost as soon as he had finished track practice and showered...but truth be told he knew he was gonna have to shower again when he got home. The air was too muggy and it was too damn hot! Working on A/C with his father had taught him one thing--people who said they liked the heat, yeah, them people were lying. They liked the heat in moderation, cut their A/C and see how much they like being hotter than Tennessee asphalt.

But what does Off The Record got right now...?

Muthafuckin' A/C! God bless!

Focus Beats! You didn't come here to cool down--you came here to heat up!

This a business trip, b!

[[Ace Ortega Pre-Game Start]]

And he certainly did look like a man on a mission, his Memphis Tigers cap faced backwards, his black tank-top and cargo shorts exposing his extremities that seemed exceptionally twitchy and pumped on adrenaline. Young Dolph could probably be blamed for that, the music bumping from Ace's cheap white in-ear headphones, one in his right ear and the other dangling with little care by his chest. He had come to this conclusion at a very young age but even the most benign and boring of tasks could be made to seem exciting in your head if you gave them the proper score. He had folded far too many clothes to Three Six Mafia and felt like he was bagging up cocaine while doing so to testify otherwise.

And however benign this particular mission he was busting was--that didn't mean he had to take it any less seriously.

He made a beeline right towards the bargain basket in the back of the store, Ace was here to increase his collection of vinyls before graduation. He was pretty convinced that he had pretty much convinced his father to get him a real deal, Holyfield turn-table as a graduation gift. Ace would've loved to take something like that with him to college as it would give him the opportunity to perform music live as opposed to just releasing it online...and that was something that fascinated and scared him in equal parts.

And if the Old Man has been spendin' too much time canoodlin' with the Old Lady to take a hint...

Maybe showin' up to the crib with a bunch of vinyls will be loud ass advertising.

As he approached the bargain basket something already caught his eye, a purple motorcycle and an icon on the cover...

They sellin' a Purple Rain vinyl! For bargain price? I guess maybe they got a lotta them again after Prince died...or maybe they just being cool! Yoooo, I could totally flip Go Crazy to something hard for graduation! Photoshop my ass in the cap and gown on the motorcycle for the album art! Alright! Alright! That's a starting point!

"O.T.R. stay comin' through with the classics, I see y'all," he mused to himself as he grabbed Purple Rain and put it under his arm, humming to himself to the loud and obnoxious music coming from his ears, "Eddie Cane, Eddie Cane, Eddie Cane...yeah, yeah..."

[Jilly]

((Desiree Beck continued from Walk Without Rhythm))

Today was supposed to be a good, easy day. School passed by without any major mishaps, and today was the day Desiree made her weekly trip to Off the Record to scavenge for new finds. It bothered her a little bit that the store owners recognized her enough to want to try and start conversations with her when she was checking out, but that was forgivable since they tended to have awesome secret treasures lurking in plain sight. Especially over in the bargain basket; that's where Desiree had found several vinyls of Percy Grainger works recorded by the NHK Symphony Orchestra and multiple other displaced Holy Grails.

Blasting orchestral music really enhanced her Minecrafting experience; sometimes it did make her feel like a serial killer in his dungeon in a bad TV crime drama, though. But it worked, and maybe it made her feel a little like a hipster too but music almost always sounded better on vinyl. A hipster serial killer, maybe.

But today, instead of heading for the bargain bin straight away like she normally did, Desiree took a slight detour over to the rinky-dink CDs section. They didn't really have anything noteworthy besides the recent Tracee Bluebell album (n-not that Desiree ever listened to her entire discography, of course), and when Desiree neared the bargain bin she didn't realize her mistake until it was too late.

There he was ogling over her domain, some tinny rap song blaring out of the earbud dangling in the perfect position to subject the whole world to that bass boosted cacophony. Desiree's fist clenched as she groaned to herself.

She could've just gone around him to the other side, she supposed. But no, she didn't want to be anywhere near that sweaty philistine. Instead she turned to glance over the records section right next to her, keeping an eye on the bargain bin area to see when it was free to herself.

Maybe he was done looking for whatever he wanted and would leave. Right now.

[Buko]

Beats' Beats: Three 6 Mafia - Roll With It
Beats was in his own little world, bopping his head with a humming bird like speed and persona and he was fairly ignorant to the world around him or the well being of his fellow customers. Didn't he deserve that though? He had busted his butt at practice, he had busted his butt during Football season and he was going to graduate and go to a Division 1 school in the Fall! This was the American Dream and boom! Pow! Poof! Like magic he had done it at eighteen!

Did that effort not beget respite?

And if that respite so much included songs about selling dope and strippers shaking ass--was it for us to judge?

"Nah, they friggin' didn't do me like this," he said his voice cracking with excitement, "Forreal? Nah son, nah, nah, nah...no fuckin' way...," he looked around the store with a degree of theatricality, "These folks gotta be a Google or Facebook affiliate or some shit, they got the Ace Beats algorithm on fuckin' point!"

While normally a private and somewhat reserved person--that was not who Ace was and it was clearly a front he put on at school among his teammates to hide his nerdy enthusiasm and lack of social awareness. Ace Beats was the furthest thing from an introvert and as he stared at the album in his hand with a Labrador puppy like eagerness, he couldn't help but feel the need to share this find with the world and whomever was closest to him was going to be the unfortunate soul to get a machine gun blast of Hip-Hop induced happiness...

One Desiree Beck would draw the short straw, a stranger to Ace...but as said, he wasn't really being thorough in his qualifying who was qualified for this conversation...

"Yoooo! Hey! Hey! Girl! I don't wanna interrupt you or anything," he said before interrupting her, "You know what this is?!", he flashed the album to her and moved it towards and away with his chest like a child with a toy at Christmas, "This a piece of Tennessee history! For Nine muthafuckin' Ninety Nine! This place is the shit!  Woo! Woo! Woo!"

Purple Rain fell to the floor from it's place wedged in Ace's armpit, he quickly dived to the ground and picked it up and then placed it behind  Comin' Out Hard before continuing to display the album like he was Vanna White.

[Jilly]

Oh. Oh no. Desiree shouldn't have turned around when Ace shouted "hey girl" at her, but his megaphonic cry drew her attention like a siren. She could've just pretended to be deaf again, but no; her head and eyes betrayed her.

She blankly looked at Ace as he exhibited his finds to the world, putting it on display like some two-bit game show model. She nodded her head with a fake smile and returned to glancing over the display near her, rolling her eyes when Ace couldn't see her face anymore.

Externally she was calm if a little visibly annoyed. Internally, she was screeching to the heavens. "Please don't talk to me please don't talk to me please don't talk to me" kept repeating in her head. She desperately prayed for her wish to come true.

Maybe he'd just leave if she didn't say anything. Maybe the roof would collapse and fall on her head, either killing her instantly or justifying a lawsuit that could be settled out of court with only minimal brain damage. Even death was something Desiree wished for more than being bear-trapped in a conversation with some sweaty asinine football barbarian.

[Buko]

Three Six Mafia continued to blare in his head with little abandon but as he saw the girl smile and nod and then quickly turned away Ace felt his skin tighten and blood rush to his face. He quickly turned around and faced the bargain bin again feeling immensely awkward about his display of enthusiasm. He should've had better self control! It was always like this wasn't it? He was too loud and too brash and a classic over sharer. This was why in terms of school friends and dating and actually bonding with his teammates outside of practices, yeah, was pretty much a no-go in any serious sense. Ace knew that he was little too much too much of the time.

Half the time he'd rather just shut his mouth and let people assume him an asshole than speak and reveal to them the more depressing truth--he was an unrepentant and completely self unaware geek and an obnoxious, annoying nerd. It was better to be silent and be presumed a fool than to speak and remove all doubt--that last social interaction happened to be Exhibit Z.

But Comin' Out Hard is a classic and like super ahead of it's time and shit, like, y'know, they didn't even consider Southern Hip-Hop real Hip-Hop! They booed Outkast at the Source Awards! The South got somethin' to say! And now it's the number one genre in the U.S and junk and Migos sellin' like the Beatles! 8Ball and MJG be the OG's of the Tennessee and Southern scene my g!

Do you hear how obnoxious you sound in your own head? No wonder this girl gave you the good ol' social jujitsu of the head nod and awkward smile. You knew exactly what she was sayin' by her sayin' nothing at all, didn't you?

Shut up Inner Ace! I ain't got time for this bullshit! I came here for business!

He shook his head and tried to focus on the bargain bin but he was too much out of his element and too invested in debating the qualities of his character with his own ego. For a moment he pondered about just putting everything back and high tailing it out of there but he psyched himself up shortly after.

This was all in his head! This girl had been perfectly polite! Any idea otherwise was just paranoia and insecurity on the part of Ace Beats. He wouldn't be ruled by such toxic traits, no! He'd approach that insecurity and awkwardness head on...

Until I get scared or embarrassed and run walk away as quick as I can.

Sounds like a muthafuckin' p to the lan plan to me.

"Er, sorry about that," he said as he left the bargain bin and approached where Desiree stood with her head straight ahead, Ace started to try and emote with the back of her skull while he had the chance, "I get a little crazy with the whole music thing. Kinda my thing."

He paused...was that too much? Was he being too polite? Would it have been better to just leave the girl alone?

"Uh, what you lookin' for? Maybe I can help you out and junk, as like, a way to make up for puttin' that unwelcome MJG convo on you," he said calmly, "Ace by the way, senior at George Hunter."

[Jilly]

Desiree's body tensed up as Ace continued to try and wear her armor down. Without turning back around, she idly fingered through the various W's, X's, Y's, and Z's of vinyls in front of her in a facade of browsing.

This was really starting to get annoying--Desiree never understood how some people seemed to gravitate to her like this. Was Ace such an imbecile that he couldn't comprehend her "fuck off" signals? Or did he not care, seeing talking to Desiree as some sort of game to win? She could never figure out which scenario was more annoying, but most importantly it shouldn't even have happened. The sooner Desiree escaped Ace the better; she didn't even care about getting to the bargain bin anymore.

Desiree returned Ace's proposal with deathly silence. After buying some time to think about how to reply she flatly said, "I know who you are already. I don't need your help."

Upon uttering those caring words her hand rested on something that drew her in. It was the title - Yellow Magic Orchestra, but those were the only words on the cover along with some freaky deaky computer wire lady in a kimono. Self-titled, maybe? Kinda weird for an orchestra to have a self-titled album, but there were stranger things in the world; one of which was standing 10 feet away from her.

Desiree pulled the album out and displayed it for Ace, almost in a mockery of his overzealous exhibition a mere couple of seconds ago. "See?"

[Buko]

Beats' Beats: Fabolous -  Pachanga The beats of Three Six Mafia changed almost abruptly, he knew it didn't, he was just too in the moment for the music to do anything but fade into the background. As he spent a moment studying Desiree's face and reaction to his offer he thought he heard his own mind scream at him from an internal megaphone.

Welp! The results are in! Ding! Ding! Ding! That wasn't paranoia!

She hates me! I don't know her but she clearly knows me...

What the hell did I do?

Play Football? Exist? What does it matter? This the part where you back away--quickly!

But he didn't move, instead he stood there with a deer in the headlights expression plastered to his face...

"Oh," he sputtered, "Er...," he looked to the side, "So you do..."

He had no idea how to react to that, normally when people knew his name--it was paired with congratulations and not disdain. She didn't give him much time to marinate in his awkward insecurity as she ruffled through the vinyl bin before pulling out a weird looking album and waving at him almost in a direct mocking of the way he had done moments before.

You're a meeeean lady!

But it was so ridiculous, such an overt display of mocking and disdain...Ace actually had to laugh and he giggled pretty hard at the girl, snorting rather loudly before covering his mouth in embarrassment as his skin tightened once again. This time, as opposed to the time where she looked at him with the Jedi Death Stare he was able to speak a bit more clearly and with a little more confidence. If she already hated him--no pressure, right? And he'd rather not contribute to the dickhead athlete stereotype. He was already here and talking to her, right?

"That was mean," he said with a false amount of sadness in his voice, "But funny."

He said with a finality.

"You can be mean if you're funny, thems the rules."

Truth be told he was glad Fabolous was playing instead of something more lit or aggressive--though that was pretty much a lie he was telling himself. Ace was a softie, a jelly fish, his fight or flight was nearly always set on flight. It's why he was a great Running Back on gameday, nobody ran faster when he thought someone was going for his head like Ace Beats.

"You go to G.H. as well then?", he said with a degree of empathy and consolation, "What's your name?"

He then pointed to the album...

"And who are they? That album looks older than you and me combined."

[Jilly]

"Thanks," Desiree said in her usual monotone, not missing a beat after Ace congratulated her humor.

She was a little even more annoyed that Ace didn't know who she was. Or at least that was what he implied. It was even more annoying that he said it like he was consoling some snot-nose brat.

Desiree ignored Ace's personal questions and instead got a closer look at the random vinyl she picked out. Damn, this was from 1978? That was only a little younger compared to her parents; this album could have it's midlife crisis any time now.

She got a closer look at the track listing. Two tracks named "Computer Game"... "Cosmic Surfin"... "Mad Pierrot"? Perhaps Desiree conned herself like when she played that ELO vinyl her father had thinking it was something entirely different. But it was too late to put it back, or maybe she could when Ace wasn't looking. She'd have to find an escape route first and unfortunately that didn't seem likely.

Desiree idly flipped the sleeve with the record in it back and forth, thinking about what to say to Ace. "I'm not sure?"

And then a moment of genius hit her, like it always does. Maybe she could distract him, just enough to slip away. "Wanna look?" She handed him the record, the first step in her scheme.

[Buko]

"Uh, sure, I don't mind! Looks interesting enough..."

She still hadn't given a name but she was willing to engage him somewhat...baby steps to heaven.

He started off excited but as he grabbed the vinyl he began to look unsure. This thing certainly looked antiquated as well but he had an album from the 80's and 90's already--getting something from the 70's didn't seem so far out of reach. Couldn't penalize the girl for liking classics. It was one song that caught his eye though while looking at the back and when it did a light bulb seemed to go off in his head.

The eureka expression could be seen from space...

"Oh shit! I read about these dudes in an article about the history of Hip-Hop in New York! This shit is history too!"

He couldn't hide his excitement, a pattern in his life for sure.

"I forget but these dudes are like some crazy popular band in like Japan or Thailand or China or some shit, I dunno, the point remains that Afrika Bambaataa," he let the name hang in the air, "One of like, the OG, real deal Holyfield, original break beat DJ's of the 80's--he sampled them dudes! Yellow Magic Orchestra!"

He nodded his head and handed the album back to her.

"That's quite a find, he used that joint Firecracker on his famous and like totally genre defining Death  Mix, his sound was like, otherworldly and revolutionary, Y.M.O provided the beat for him to flip so they getta little bit of credit" Ace let that hang like it should've been the most obvious thing in the world, "That's an A-1 find, great taste on your part. Would love to get me a hold of something like that to truly honor the like real pioneers of Hip-Hop production and shit."

[Jilly]

((Desiree Beck to be continued ...or so she thought))

She had the perfect plan; distract Ace with the bizarre vinyl and slip away quietly without him noticing: the tried and true Irish goodbye.

But Ace was too social, too well adjusted. He did the one thing Desiree feared: eye contact. Every time she thought she had an opportunity to make her retreat, he looked back up at her while going off about hip hop or something. She made it about 3 steps back before he handed her the record again. His eyes were on her now as she accepted the record back with a slight grimace.

Crap, she just had to pick out the one "orchestra" record that both was probably unorchestrated and formed the essential backbone to hip hop as the universe knew it. It was ELO all over again.

...But, Desiree would be lying if she weren't a little bit curious now. Surely if they were so world renowned and essential, eh she probably could've done worse. Plus it was good to be a well rounded young lady. Sometimes.

Desiree took another look at her find, her grimace slowly slipping back into her natural frown as she flipped the record set back and forth in her hands. At least Ace was sensible enough to compliment her on her impeccable accidental taste. She decided to go for it anyway, and worst case her dad would probably like it if she didn't want to keep it.

"...Thanks." Her hands stopped fidgeting with the record as she tried to plan the next move. Now she just needed to get to the register as soon as possible with minimal conversation with Ace. If she hoofed it now, he'd get maybe 3 sentences in before she could be saved by the cashier lady; she'd be okay with her even today, just... anyone but Ace please!

She strategized the escape route and started making a beeline to safety. "I'm going now," where the only words Desiree said before making her third attempt to escape Ace.

[Buko]

Beats' Beats: Outkast - SpottieOttieDopalicious
The music changed again and she thanked him and began to walk away...

The song was familiar, the drum beats and horns adding a little bit of a haziness to Ace's mind as  Desiree made her third attempt at escape. He couldn't lie, he knew he was inventing shit that wasn't there. Trying his best to manufacture shallow connections with strangers as to mitigate the risk of actual meaningful friendships and relations. But such was his way, wasn't it? He didn't want to share much of his inner thoughts, those he had were his to keep. But music? Music was a way of communicating with the world. It was a universal language spoken in a thousand different dialects. He liked sharing music and he liked sharing music with others.

It's probably why he had been so eager to bother Desiree, a stranger who's name he didn't know, with his musical proclivities and ideas. As been said, to Ace, music was the universal language. It was something he could use to relate when his words and actions failed him. He used it often as both a benchmark and guide map to social interaction. For better or worse. This current interaction was still up in the air.

"You're welcome!"

He shouted with a little too much enthusiasm, he couldn't help himself, okay?

He shuffled his feet and brought his hand up in a wave...

"Maybe I see you 'round school?", he asked casually, "You tell me if the album sounds as influential as it is and shit..."

He drifted again...

"I don't mean to be rude and all that stuff," he said uneasily "Errr...I still didn't get your name...? "

Possibly a sign she didn't want to give it--why do you want it anyway?

I'm just being polite! Don't make this into more than what it is!

I'm not, you are, I'm you.

Yeah, yeah...whatever...semantics...

[Jilly]

Desiree stopped in her path as Ace tried to flag her down. She sighed, paused for a moment, and decided to respond with her one word answer, "Desiree."

Like he'd ever talk to her again after today. That's what Desiree hoped for, anyway. And yet, Desiree felt bad for him in a way; if he was trying to talk to her of all people, surely he was lonely and deserved at least some sort of pity. Or this was some sort of set up, and he was gonna go back to all of his little football buddies and talk about the weird Asian girl he saw at the record store.

She knew how this school worked.

Satisfied that Ace would let her go, Desiree resumed her journey and made it to the front counter to pay for her new find. Well, the new old find. And one of the copies of Tracee Bluebell's new album release that was being held discreetly, just for Desiree.

She nodded along as the cashier talked at her, and with her purchases in hand she vanished out of the store as quickly as she appeared.

((Desiree Beck continued in Generation Loss))

[Buko]

Desiree...

Alright, gotta make sure to actually follow through on that one, right?

But he was feeling pretty good, he had flipped his over excitement and invasive nature into something resembling a genuine bonafide human connection...or at least a exchanging of names. He could do worse. He often had, in front of bigger audiences. Still, he was always happy when people could identify him as a footballer but respect him as a musician as he was sure Desiree just had. Or maybe not a musician but a taste maker? Baby steps to heaven--a mantra he might as well have tattoo'd to his chest.

Let's look around a little bit before I ride...

And looked he did finally making good on his 3 decade prong strategy and picking up a vinyl from the 70's. A classic, Curtis Mayfield's Superfly, this was something his mother had played on CD many a Saturday morning while cleaning. She'd be happy to see Ace have a copy of the vinyl itself, though it was a little pricey and outside of the Bargain basket. His three albums in hand he went to the cashier, still bopping his head in a haze to SpottieOttieDopalicious. They placed the three vinyls in a big plastic bag, Ace asked them to double bag it. He walked outside to find it nearing dusk and approached his Honda Ruckus, tied the bag to his handle bars, put on his helmet and then rev'd up his scooter.

His music in one ear bud changed once more...
Beats' Beats: Pimp C ft. Z-ro & Lil' Flip - Comin' Up And Ace Beats was gone. A falsetto on his breath and a bop to his head...

"Bitch I just don't wanna stop--cooooooooomin' up....!"

((Ace Ortega continued in... In Our Bones))