midnight memory lane

When i was little, my dad once took me to a music-store. (the kind that sells instruments, not the kind that sells actual music..)
My dad used to play a little bit of guitar too, or so he claims. i do remember us having a guitar in the attic.. Our attic was a place to chill and play etc. we could make all the noise we wanted, jumping up and down all we wanted because the restaurant was 2 stories down anyways. No way we could  bother the customers. There used to be a guitar there, but i think it got broken, by.. someone.. perhaps it was me, but im not sure.. ohwell. no one knows :-#

anyways. back to the music store(y)..
i dont remember much of it. Just that, when we were walking towards the exit, we also walked past the guitar-section. There was -as there is always- a guy sitting on a stool, playing around on a random guitar.. And apparently i stood still to watch him or something. cuz he looked back at me, and i think he wanted to give me his guitar pick.. Since I have always been way too shy around people i dont know, i of course shook my head -i think a big part of me also didnt understand what he meant when he held out his pick to me, haha. poor guy.. im sorry for being weird even though you tried reaching out for me :P

are you left thinking 'what the hell is the bottomline of this oh so intriguing story???'

yea.. join the club.