Gabba Gabba Hey

By AbsolutAnda

There she was, the love of my life, standing just ten feet away from me.

Surrounded by more used records and CDs than one could count in a lifetime, she carefully studied the track list of the disk in her delicate hands, perfectly polished black nails drumming against the chipped plastic. She paused, thought for a moment, and then placed the case back on the packed shelf with more grace than I had ever seen in one person. Her electric blue eyes, the color of blue Jell-O, roamed over the wall of albums before her, taking in all of the names. CD cases packed the shelves to the ceiling, spilling out into piles on the scratched wood floor that made it impossible to walk without tripping, but as she wandered down the aisle, she somehow missed every pile, her gorgeous eyes never leaving her study of albums.

I had never seen anyone so beautiful, so perfect, in my life. The muted light shone off of her silver jacket, laden with patches and pins from punk bands beyond my already extensive knowledge, and cast a halo around her face, illuminating her features. Her impossibly blue eyes, her adorable freckles, the way her eyebrow quirked up as our eyes met…

I sighed. I couldn't help it. It was like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders just by her presence. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

She blinked, face blank with hints of confusion—I assumed she was also taken aback by the rush of intense emotions between us. Understandable; I couldn't quite comprehend it myself. She put the case back on the shelf and began to walk away from me. Ah, the chase. My dad had told me about this before. A woman did it when she was interested, but didn't want to seem easy. I followed behind her slowly, giving my hips a sexy sway.

She glanced back at me once more, picked out a few albums, looked them over and then put them on a stack of records before walking away again. A sign! I picked up the CDs and my heart fluttered. The Ramones. We liked the same band. It was fate.

I followed her through stacks of records, towering above me like trees of a forest. The girl glanced over her shoulder every once in a while with a 'come hither' expression and I was reminded of some kind of nymph. A wood nymph in our forest of music. My heart skipped a beat at the thought. I was head over heels and I hadn't even talked to her yet, but I could imagine her voice; smooth as silk with the timbre of porcelain bells in the wind.

I turned the corner to find her in a dead end, surrounded by cassette tapes. This was the part of the store where no one went. It was private. Perfect. I had to say something cool, suave, sexy…

"Gabba Gabba Hey." I purred.

Realizing she was being watched, Thalia glanced up to her right, and did a double take. Standing at the end of the aisle, leaning against a shelf with a dreamy look in his eyes directed at her, was a boy. He was maybe sixteen or seventeen—obviously of the "poser-punk" genre with his phenomenally tight black, studded jeans, spanking new Converse, and safety-pin riddled The Ramones shirt—and judging by the expression on his face, probably high. She rolled her eyes and continued her perusal through the wall of music, a little faster this time. There was nothing that bothered her more than a little rich "punk" kid who thought he was hardcore or "street". She casually turned and strolled into the next aisle, hoping the high school pot head was too hazy to follow.

No such luck.

She glanced behind her again, and there he was, turning the corner, that same stoned expression on his face. He awkwardly jutted out his hip every other step. Thalia gave a loud, irritated sigh—hoping he would get the hint—and picked out another CD to examine. She put it back a few moments later, too distracted by the weird kid drawing closer to concentrate on what she was reading. She took a few more steps away from him and grabbed the first few albums she saw, just to make herself look busier.

Damn, The Ramones. I have these already. She cursed in her head as she realized what she had just grabbed. She dropped them onto a pile of records at her feet and continued quickly down the narrow, dark aisle, weaving between tall stacks of records and CDs. She glanced over her shoulder to see that he was still following her, that same dreamy expression on his face. This was getting ridiculous.

She turned down the next aisle and froze. It was the dead end of cassette tapes. Fuck! She whipped around to see that weird kid, closing in, still with that awkward sway in his hips. Was he trying to be sexy? He finally reached her, paused, and then...

"Gabba Gabba Hey." He said, his voice cracking as it was forced into a deep tone. His face contorted itself into something that was supposed to resemble some kind of smoldering look, but he just looked confused and depressed. Thalia just stared, dumbfounded.

"Are you serious?"

"Hey little girl, let's Blitzkrieg Bop." He continued in the same voice, taking few more awkward steps towards her. She put her hands up between them, holding him back as he tried to take another step towards her. "Here we are in Queens, let's eat some refried beans." His brow twitched at the horrible innuendo. Thalia pushed him back harder.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Go away!" She ordered, giving him an extra shove. He stumbled back, but came back to her, this time trying to wrap his arms around her.

"Hey ho, let's go!" He leaned in, fighting against Thalia's hands, trying to kiss her.

She'd had more than enough.

Percy yawned as he wandered down the sidewalk. He was bored, simple as that. Annabeth had dragged him into a used bookstore and after half an hour of book titles rearranging themselves just to spite him, he left. He still didn't understand how someone with such extreme dyslexia like Annabeth could spend so much time reading. He'd given up immediately after he learned how. So, in his desperation for some form of entertainment, he decided to find Thalia, who mentioned going to a music store. Better than nothing.

He'd just spotted the dingy shop when the front door banged out, and Thalia herself stormed out, her jaw clenched in anger.

"Hey Thal—"

"We're leaving." She stated firmly, grabbing his arm and whipping him around back the way he came so fast his neck snapped back.

"What? But Annabeth is still—" He was cut off by the music store banging open again. He twisted around in Thalia's grip, still being dragged quickly away, to see what it was. This time a boy in horrifically tight pants and holding a bloody nose ran out, staggering after them.

"Sheena! Wait! You're my little punkrocker!"

"Wait, who's Sheena?" Percy asked, but Thalia just yanked him harder and growled through clenched teeth,

"We're leaving."

Hey you there, with that cursor hovering next to that 'review' button...wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

Let me just say that my roommate was not impressed by me sitting in the corner, giggling to myself as I tried to think up Ramones-related pickup lines.