“But your death, it won’t happen to you

It happens to your family and your friends

I pretend…”

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That was a quote from some song lyrics by Matty Healy of the 1975, for a song called “I always wanna die (sometimes)” on a record called a brief inquiry into online relationships published in 2018.

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One thing about working at the café is that I have access to, like, an exceptionally good quality sound system to play whatever music I would like to play before the café opens. I am on one hell of a 1975 kick right now, so I’m in there alone blasting music. Immensely fond of this particular british indie rocker/recovering heroin addict songwriter man. I think he’s a sad pathetic wet cat idiot but we love him anyway.

So the thing about blasting the 1975 generic playlist over the speakers at work. Is that when a song called “I always wanna die (sometimes)” is on the playlist and blasting over speakers there is a real possibility that your boss will walk in on you chopping up some onions and crying and she’ll give you funny look, and then ask if she can have a slice of rye toasted for some specialty butter she stole from over in the consessions department. And you make her some toast and in the background Matty Healy is just going “AND I ALWAYS WANNA DIE SOMETIMES… AND I ALWAYS WANNA DIE SOMETIMES…” and she’s awkwardly standing there as you say of course you will make her some toast out of a slice of rye and you talk about how many foods can be used as a vehicle for stress eating delicious stolen butter and you actually have some pretty good banter going there for a minute and then she walks away and you’re like. Fuck. Standing there wanting to bury your head in your hands from embarrassment.

But then she is especially kind to you for the rest of the day. Not in a condescending way. Just being friendly. And you think – fuck it, the Matty Healy in me sees and acknowledges the Matty Healy in you.

Namaste.