Brush store

A department store displaced in time. If you drive by where it once stood open, and just a abandoned and sealed building remains while the moon is right, it will be lit up and ready for business. That cute cashier with the dimply smile and the perky breasts, you can go there occasionally through-out your life and try to hit on her. Use different lines, approaches, it's the same scene, only your actions change the outcome. I have done some pretty outragous stuff there, once you are out of the store and look but, it's boarded up and years later. He He, oportunity for some social experiments. I've gone in there and stole stuff, walk, or if I have to , run out and turn around facing the abandoned building. The goods still in my pocket. Next time I come back, could be years before I find it, I'll have a clean slate, I can do whatever I want and as long as I get out and turn around, it's years later again. Frozen in time, under the spell of The Great Vending Machine. examples of some of My visits to the brush store from my para-abnormal journal.

  • Entry one , Oct 12 1990. I've been driving past the corner where the Brush store is sometimes located on my way home for a couple of months, just a abandoned building with some scattered gang tags sprayed on it's walls.But today is different, The store is here and open in all it's shabby glory. Seventeen cars in the parking lot, none of them newer than 1987. I park my car and get out, shoving my digital camera in my pocket. I walk in and admire the scent of the eighties that forever lingers here. I sneak several photos while there, they are posted on my Myspace page.
  • Entry Two , Nov 1994 I saw the store open again so I went in. The same employees as before no change what so ever. I drive by there every day on my way home from work, yet it's always closed till today. I buy a plate set, some toy instruments for a song I'm working on, and a poster that proclaims Strength is my only weakness all at cheap eighties prices.