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The Music

Thu, 29 Nov 2012, 06:03 AM (-06:00) Creative Commons License

1. Noticing the Music

There was music in the grocery store.

How great is that, live music at the grocery store?

We walk in thru the sliding doors, and as the smell of the produce surrounds us, there’s guitar music coming from the lobby where a guy is sitting on a stool playing and singing while people sit at tables eating and listening.

I know. The prices are high. Still, the food is good. There are many organic choices. … And now there’s music.

2. Scowling at the Music

We wandered around, starting in the produce section, working our way thru the meats and cheese, getting some eggs and soup. And then we were back in meats again. 

I was picking out some hot, cooked chicken to eat for dinner (because we had met after work, and I was fading fast) when I noticed the music again. It was coming from the other side of the store. It was loud.

The guy was belting it out at the top of his lungs. And it was really bad.

3. Dining with the Music

After we checked out, we pushed the cart up to a table just beyond the cash registers, and we sat down to eat.

The guy was still there howling into the microphone. There were very few people left at the tables listening to him. The music had been deteriorating steadily, and it frankly wasn’t pleasant sitting there. I chose a table as far from him as we could get.

“Do you want to sit outside?” asked the Fair and Industrious Trudy as she put her wallet back into her purse.

It was cold outside, and I was really hungry by now.

“No,” I said as I bit into a drumstick.

4. Stopping the Music

And now the songs turned raunchy. Not only was he too loud. Not only was he out of tune. But now he was singing some song about sex.

The manager walked up and quietly whispered something to him. They spoke for a few minutes, and then she walked away.

“Well that’s fine,” he said into the microphone. “We won’t sing about SEX. We don’t talk about SEX. Anything but SEX.”

The manager came back and quietly whispered a few more things to him. She still had a pleasant look on her face, but it was pretty obvious by now that things we going majorly downhill.

Mark mumbled some words into the microphone as he shuffled thru his sheet music looking for a different song.

“Here’s something,” he said. “It’s about a grocery store!”

This time, the song was about blood, warm blood flowing out of her head. Each time he got to the word “blood”, he belted it out as loudly as he possibly could.

The manager returned. I heard her quietly say, “Ok, we’re done.”

And that was the end of the music.

© jumpingfish by David Hasan is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License