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Written by DJ Crystal Clear |
It’s 1986, and I’m working at Tower Sunset (For all you kids out there, I’m talking about the world famous Tower Records Flagship store on Sunset Boulevard, right at the beginning of the infamous SUNSET STRIP).
It was a really great job - I worked in the Art Department, putting my Art Institute Of Philadelphia’s Graphic Design degree to good use. Sometimes I’d hang out or work the floor in the main shop, or in the Video Store (where I was originally hired) and in the Classical Store too.
Anyway, celebrities of all kinds would come there to shop or hang out - some would just wander in without an entourage, some would call ahead, some would ask us to let them in after hours...David Lee Roth used to hang out in the Video Store often (he lived down the street); I met Michael Jackson (who would sometimes come in costumes), Prince (Jerome drove them there in a, wait for it...little red corvette), Whoopi Goldberg (I babysat her daughter), blah blah blah, it was really groovy.
One afternoon, I was hanging out in the video store, talking with a Manager there named Kevin. We were goofing around talking about some new album or something, and he wanted to show me the stuff he bought across the street in the record store, so we went into the back office to give it the once over.
While we’re talking, a clerk comes back and says, “Hey Kevin, Denise is here to see you.”
Now, I really didn’t pay that much attention to the name he said because I was looking at new records. Kevin made the waving motion that meant, “Yeah, tell her to come back here.”
I put the records down and sit in a big chair while we’re talking. I see a figure walk in the door out of the corner of my eye, and see a fur coat in the doorway. It’s a floor length chinchilla/mink mix and I’m thinking, “This is a crazy looking fur coat that is super expensive” and I look up from the floor (why isn’t this kooky broad wearing shoes?) and get to the woman’s face - HOLY SHIT IT’S VANITY! I sit there, gobsmacked.
Kevin says, “Hey Denise, what’s up?” She smiles. “Oh yeah, this is Crystal. She’s a great artist we just hired, she’s cool, say 'hi!'”
She stands there smiling at me. Her eyes look glassy, her hands are in the pockets of the coat. Floor length fur coat. I’m in West Hollywood.
It’s July.
It’s 89 degrees outside.
I stand up and our eyes meet. The manager says, “Crystal, this is...”
I blurt out, “VANITY!”
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