Somehow, I ended up in a small, crowded shopping center with one of my exes. He was kind of blathering on and I wasn’t paying much attention; I spotted some dobros for sale, and went over to look. When I got closer, I saw they weren’t dobros at all, but some kind of weird Rickenbacker hybrid. Next thing I know, the ex is picking it up to play. “Do you still have that Rickenbacker?” I asked. He haughtily told me that “sometimes a man has to do without to help his family” and he sold it. (Which is highly unlikely in real life.)
Since I was the person who told him Rickenbackers were good investments and “you can always sell it if you need the money,” I’m already so bored, as the kids say. I walked away to look at something else, I don’t remember what, and I hear him singing and playing over the store P.A. He sounds okay, although not as good as I remember.
And then I have to get back to work, so I leave.
