My Plains Video Girl

Back in the early 90s, when VHS tapes lined the shelves of every small-town video store, I found myself in Toowoomba. Just down the road from where I lived was a place called Plains Video. For most people, it was just a spot to rent movies, but for me, it became something much more.

There was a girl who worked there, and for reasons I still don’t fully understand, she became the center of a strange, shy, and slightly creepy crush. Each Sunday I’d wander down, pretending to browse the shelves, while really hoping to catch just a smile or glance in her direction. I’d even make up excuses to visit, borrowing movies I didn’t really want, just to step through those doors and maybe see her.

The song tells that story, from the small-town routines to the nervous smiles that never turned into conversations. Seasons came and went, and eventually she was gone. I thought that was the end of it, until one night at a nightclub when, out of nowhere, she grabbed me and kissed me twice before vanishing into the crowd. No words, just a moment that felt surreal and unforgettable.

My Plains Video Girl is a kooky, true account of that time in my life. It’s about youthful longing, missed chances, and the strange magic of one stolen kiss. Looking back, I can smile at how awkward and funny it all was, but at the same time, I still feel the warmth of that memory.

Some crushes fade, but others linger like the glow of a VHS tape paused too long on the screen. This was mine.