Things The Song Did Day!

Today the song was played on a jukebox at a bar at 4:33 PM. The boy who played it didn't think it was a good idea to be in a bar alone at such an early hour, but the boy often acts on such ideas. He knows the bar well and the jukebox even better, but the boy had never known the song was in there, and he'd never before thought to look for it on that or any other jukebox. He found the song before he'd selected any others, but he didn't choose it immediately. He went looking for two other songs to play before it so that he'd have enough time to get back to his table and stare out the window and sigh a bit before the song came on. (He hated when his songs were wasted on him scrambling to pick out other songs). So the song played third and the boy had his legs crossed when it came on. The song made him play with his hair a bit, then he shook his head and laughed at himself a bit. Then he made a phone call to someone he thought it a bad idea to make a phone call to. The boy often acts on such ideas, but this time it wasn't his fault. The song did it.

Today the song woke her up at 9:43 AM. He asked if the music was too loud, and she didn't say "of course it is, it just woke me up." She didn't ask, "why are you playing music so early when your guest is clearly still asleep in your bed?" And she didn't ask if he was glad he'd brought her home with him last night (she knew he wasn't, they had that in common at least). Instead she said no, and laid back and listened to the song and decided to not move out of New York City. She would have to get ahold of her roommate and tell her she wasn't leaving, and she would have to wait until he went to take a shower before she could reach the few feet off the bed and push the button on the stereo that made the song play again. She knows choosing not to move means a lot more pain to come, but if it ever gets too hard she can always blame the song.

Today he hunted for the song like there was a bounty on its head. He looked in the pile of shit in the storage space above the closet but the disc wasn't there. He looked in the pile of shit he keeps meaning to sort out from underneath his bed but the disc wasn't there. He looked in the pile of shit he calls his CD collection but the disc wasn't there. So he got dressed and got in his car and drove (high, he'd smoked a half hour before) to Virgin and bought it. On the drive home (the song wasn't playing yet, stereo stolen nineteen months prior) he remembered who he gave the disc to (Clara). The song played at exactly 9:20 PM. It made him sing along in the mirror for the first minute and a half, then he had to go to the bathroom (not the song's fault). When he got back to his bedroom, he started the disc at the beginning because he felt there was something criminal in putting on a disc and listening out of sequence or skipping songs you don't like (Clara did that). The song played again at around 9:45 PM. It didn't make him sing again, though. He didn't notice it playing in fact. He was thinking about something else by then (Clara).

Happy Things The Song Did Day!