Ear hustler

Her dark black hair coiled around itself beneath a red beanie. She was at the Mac store in downtown Portland, Oregon, smacking keys and abusing computer equipment she should not have otherwise been able to touch. I was adjacent her doing a similar test on the Mac airbook's durability.

"Excuse me," I ask an employee whose skin color is a shade darker than transparent, "Is this the mini DVI port on this Macbook?" "Yeah," he responds in an aloof, dismissing way before wattling away into an abyss of caucasians buying cranberry and jasmine tinted cases for their iPhones.

"Sorry, I couldn't help but ear hustle your last statement," she said while purchasing a mint green iPod shuffle, "that is a video only port. If you are planning on attaching your Mac to a TV, you also need an audio outlet." Her knowledge of Apple accessories was impressive.

I stopped listening at "ear hustle" because it seems like such a fabulous idea and I begin to wonder if I can also eye hustle or taste hustle. I smile and stare at her skin, which was double Americano dark and her hair wrapped tightly beneath her beanie. Everything about her seemed very New York, even her friend complaining about the lack of right click on Macs.

I explain how to import and export files but she never fully believes me. "Do you know the two finger trick?" I say before showing them. When you trail one finger over a Mac touch pad it moves the mouse, but when you use two fingers it scrolls up and down or side to side on the page.

"Its all about the side to side," I say with a giggle tracing my fingers back across the finger pad area. "Damn straight," she blurts out. "You fucking coo'll." We laugh confidently despite a store of people wishing we wouldn't.

On that note I leave. "Ear hustle ya later," I say. "You fuckin coo'll too." More stares.
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