Tuned Out

With work being slow lately, I'm thinking of embarking on a little something to make a bit of extra money. Here's how I got the idea. I had to spend most of yesterday with Marilyn making yet another trip to the doctor and then over to the hospital for an ultrasound. She's still in a lot of pain, and the medications they give her only make her sleepy and nauseous while the doctor refuses to do surgery and remove the problem. She's getting angrier and angrier. He wouldn't even see her again until she'd taken the medicine he prescribed for 3 months, so I took her to another doctor. Once his nurse called over there he moved her appointment with him up to next Tuesday. God forbid you listen to your patients when they tell you something's wrong, but when they spend money going to another doctor they'll listen to them. It's very frustrating. After spending most of the day waiting for things to be done, we were finally able to eat lunch at 4 in the afternoon. We went over to a place Jerry likes to frequent. As soon as Marilyn, Jerry and I sat down we noticed how loud the music was, and it wasn't even the usual tunes they played there. It was so loud it was almost hard to have a conversation. When the waitress came over and asked, "What do you want?" I said, "I want you to change that music." She just said, "Nope." Wouldn't even ask whoever was in charge if she could. What kind of tip is she expecting now? After she left with our order Jerry, my hero, decided to ask another waitress he knew if she could change it. "I'd have better luck turnin' it down," she said. He told her that would be great. I told Jerry she didn't listen to that kind of music, so you'd think she wouldn't have a problem with getting it changed at a customer's request. He asked me how I knew. Feeling like Sherlock Holmes, I told him to look at her belt. It was a rock and roll kind of belt, the black type with all the studs on it. So he asked her if she listened to rock. In her long southern drawl she says, "Nah, ah listen to 92.1. Ah like ray-up music." Okay, so I'm no Sherlock Holmes, but at least I guessed she didn't care for country music. Our food came and we noticed there hadn't even been a reduction in the music volume. The songs were invading my head, annoying me. I was even mis-hearing lyrics. The woman sang something but I wasn't sure exactly what. My mind heard "severed finger blues". And this is where my new career idea came in. I'm gonna write country songs! Here's what I've got so far. My song will be called "Severed Finger Blues" and the first line goes, "My daddy had a chainsaw". I think it's a good start.

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