Daydreaming To the Thump Thump

Wind. Shield. Wipe. Ers.

I do believe I may hear the rhythmic thump, thump, thump in my sleep. How I long for the day when I can leave my sunroof open for more than ten minutes without getting spit upon by the heavens.

On one of the semi-major routes I travel on a daily basis, there is some kind of a music store. Not music as in CDs…but music instruction. At least, that’s what I’ve been led to believe.

The name of the place is “The Music Box” and as I’ve said, it’s on a very busy highway in town. It also has an incredibly small postage-stamp-size parking lot…both shallow and narrow, requiring all who enter it to slow down to a crawl in order to make the turn without showering crushed pebbles on anyone unfortunate enough to be driving behind them.

The other day, as I’m slowing down once again behind an army of cars so that yet another vehicle can turn into the already packed parking lot of The Music Box, I notice this woman climbing the steps to the entrance of the building.

She’s got really, really long hair…and a really, really short skirt…and really, really high heels.

And I got to thinking……

Huh.

That’s an awfully busy place for music lessons. I mean…every day, the parking lot is jammed.

Huh.

Who seriously takes that many music lessons? And how come I’ve never seen any kids coming and going from there? And most importantly….how come no-one’s carrying any musical instruments??

Now, I’m not making any accusations here. But, you’ve got to admit….it would make one hell of a cover.

Don’t you think?