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Monday, March 9, 2015

Genuinely super-psyched for this Franz Ferdinand/Sparks collabo album.
I was walking down the street yesterday^ and I overheard this guy talking about this business establishment called, I believe, the "French Nail Bar." The gist of his jib was a sentiment I had previously conjured, having passed this place numerous times over the last few months, and that was, the inclusion of the word "bar" in an area full of actual bars and restaurants was at best misleading because it was just a place where women go to get their fingernails/toenails painted and not a mysterious watering hole. I'm not privy to information whether or not the word "bar" is typically used as a qualifier for these shops ("salon," "bazaar" and even "hut" feel more apt, tbqh). Anyway, life went on. It felt OK connecting with a perfect stranger, wordlessly, in passing.