I woke up to the sounds of loud beeps from my alarm clock. After a couple seconds figuring this out, I instinctively slammed my hoof on top of the clock on my dresser. After the loud sounds of electronic noise stopped filling the air I felt my eyes slowly begin to open. After my retinas adjusted from complete darkness I sat up in my bed. My room was very dark, but very small shimmers of light creeped through my blinds to shine on my floor.
I looked back at my clock. 8:30 it read. Perfect.
I threw my blanket to the side and got out of bed and headed towards my bathroom. I flicked the light on and located my shower. Once I did that I pushed aside the curtains and turned on the water. After I set it the temperature I turned around and looked at myself in the mirror. I have very light brown fur, with very brown (almost black) short hair that isn't very well kept. The only differentiating color I have is my very bright green eyes.
After I made sure I didn't look completely horrible I took a deep sigh and walked into the shower.
I stepped into my kitchen and grabbed a bowl out of one my cabinets. After I set it on the table I went to my fridge to get a thing of juice. I pulled out a thing of juice made of vegetables, fruits, all that good stuff and set it right beside my bowl. Then I went back in and pulled out a box of cereal and sat down. I poured the cereal into my bowl and started chowing down.
Oh, I haven't introduced myself yet. My name is High Note. I live in Ponyville and run a little record store in town. Not the most exciting job but it keeps me happy. I live in a small, but comfy, apartment. I don't really have a lot of stuff besides all my books, some couches and a couple of other things. Oh wait! I forgot to mention my awesome record player. Of all the things I own this is what I'm most proud of, a nice record player with some pretty good amps with it. But I'll explain more later.
Once I finished breakfast I put my cereal back and my bowl in the sink. I checked the clock that was planted on my wall. 9 o clock. Again, perfect.
I stepped out of my apartment door, locked it, and left to go to work.
I stepped in my record shop. Shiny wood floors, white walls, and shelves filled with records with small stickers under them with capital letters.. I looked at the counters and found a blue haired depressed alcoholic colt laying his head down on the table. Yeah, same as I left it.
I walked over, "Hey Trips.". All I heard back was a groan followed by a hoof flying in the hair.
"Another hard night of hard drinking?" I said jokingly.
"Followed by a hoof fight and public urination." He said back to me.
Trips was a really strange kind of pony. Most people who didn't know him thought he was a mean guy, or less politely an asshole. But I really knew him. I've known him since Middle School. He was a really tough kid, getting into tons of fights constantly and not really having any friends. He was always an angry colt, with a hint of sarcasm and manic depression. His depression is so bad that he's personally had two suicide attempts, one I've walked in on.
But he's a pretty decent guy. Besides working here he also performs at night clubs doing shows as a rapper. He's pretty good, but not popular enough for it to be his full time job, so he works here with me.
"Dude, you can't just keep getting into fights all the time. You're not really a popular colt here anyways."
He started snickering, "You really think I care?"
"Well when people hate you I doubt they'd go to your shows." I said.
He flipped his hoof to the side, "Not like anyone goes to see me anyways." and with that he slammed his head back down. I walked past him and into the back room. In there I kept the boxes of new records we'd get, and a small mini fridge that was hooked up by the wall. I opened it up and examined the contents. There were about three bottles of beer (typical) and a glass jar full of cherry lemonade. I sifted through the beer, grabbed the lemonade and headed back.
Oh, and another thing. I don't drink. Like.....ever. I'm not a big prude or anything, it's just that when I drink a lot I kinda....get a little wild. Or that's what I've been told since I don't really remember what happens after I drink a lot. And I don't really like the taste of alcohol, just doesn't taste good for me but whatever. Back to the story.
I walked back out to the counter, "Anyone come in yet?"
Trips lifted his head back up, "Eh, couple ponies. Bon Bon and Lyra came in pretty early and browsed around for a couple minutes. Spike came in and bought an Odd Future album. Then two ponies came in and bought the new Daft Punk album and some alternative rock album. Pretty much it for today."
"Sounds like a good day so far." I said, laying my beverage on the table next to where Trips head used to be. "Did we get any new shipments today?"
"Nah," He replied,"but I think some faggotty colt band is gonna release their new record in a week. So we should probably get a bunch of records to sell to all the stupid fillies who buy that crap."
"While I hate your reasoning I can't deny the truth in that. Those records sell like crazy for some reason."
"Eh. Your musical taste doesn't start until you hate every popular band and learn the word "indie" and "experimental"."
I gave a light chuckle,"I will never know your intense hatred for popular music."
"Your head has to be really far up your ass to know that feeling." And with that we heard the familiar sound of "DING A LING", the sound of someone entering the store.
From the looks of a massive red body with a green apple on his flank, it was safe to assume one of our favorite customers just walked in.
Not a lot of people knew this, but Big Mac was kinda a big music snob. He practically came over every week to buy records. Even more surprising was his tastes. He mostly enjoys electronic, hard punk or hip-hop. He practically made 50% of the profits from this store. His constant visits and musical snobbery made him kind of special to us. Besides, having a toned flank in the store definitely didn't hurt.
"Yo Mac" Trips yelled,"what the fuck is good bro?".
Mac looked at us and smiled,"Not much, what's good with you?" I have to mention him talking like this in his deep voice was very strange, but when you see him as much as we do you just kinda get used to it.
"Not much my stallion, what're you in here for today?" Trips asked.'
"My needle is dying, so I came down here to buy a new one. Think you have one for me?"
Trips finally stopped laying on the counter and stood up, "Yeah, let me check the back." He walked in the back room to sift through all the boxes to go find a needle. That left me and Big Mac.
"So" I asked, "you liking that Clasixx LP you bought last week?".
"Yeah, nice bit of music to play late at night to wind me down." Then he got up on his two hind hooves and began stretching and then a massive yawn belted from his mouth. "Oh sweet Celestia I am way too tired to work today."
"Why what did you do last night?" I asked.
"Well I spent the night with Nurse Red Heart then went back to her place...."
"Buh" I yelled,"don't need to know more."
Mac stifled a giggle,"For a pony with your looks I'm surprised i'm not hearing lots of stories from you."
I tried to respond, but a lump in my throat decided I should just blush profusely. Mac was infamous in town for "going both ways" (As I do too), so you're always hearing about him sleeping around with tons of ponies. I'm not really like that though, socially and sexually I'm as awkward as a filly trying to walk and falling flat on its face. And Mac was a flirt by nature, which always made one on one's with him feel kinda awkward.
Big Mac laughed at the sight of my face turning hot pink, "Aww you look cute." Suddenly he layed both of his hooves on the counter and rested his chin on them. I could tell he was having tons of fun while I was having tons of awkward.
Luckily this was interrupted by Trips slamming a card board box on the counter. "Stop it you two lover boys," Trips said, then he turned to Mac and held up a fresh record needle. "And I found this one, this good?" He said handing it to Mac.
Mac took it and looked at it for a second, "Yeah this'll be fine. Thanks." then he handed Trips a bunch of bits, And with that he turned around and started walking. But not before purposefully shaking his flank as he went while maniacally laughing. Then he opened the store door and walked out.
I took a deep sigh, "What am I going to do with that guy?".
Trips laughed,"He can sense your massive amount of sexual frustration." he started laughing even harder.
I layed my head on the counter. "This is gonna be a long day."