That place was somewhat of a punk rock hangout. We’d pull out a General Electric record player and clean to punk rock. It was a $3.50-an-hour job—and I had many of those. You know, you have that job you spend way too much time at. It’s like the Kevin Smith movies. You’re at that place way more than is healthy. I was the 60-hour-a-week guy, because the girl from Georgetown University who worked there was in a bad mood and couldn’t come in. But when you’re 19, you can live on horniness and whatever else is coursing through your blood stream. Slowly, as I gained influence, I began to bring in my friends to work there. That’s why Ian was there. He didn’t mind the free ice cream, either.
