We have an old boombox in our deli at work. We're only allowed to play it when there are no customers in the store, so it gets turned on from 5 am until 7 am, every morning.
Most days, it gets turned to the radio, where it plays the exact same top 40 music that is heard on the overhead speakers. There have been days where, I swear, both the in-store music and the radio were playing the same damn Christina Aguilera song at the same time. It was as if the radio and the digital satellite shared some sort of weird hive mind, set towards the goal of driving Dave slowly insane through ridiculously stupid pop music.
Luckily, the first person who opens is usually the one who gets to pick the music. And last week, I had the good luck of being the opener. While most people would scowl at a 4 am shift (and for me, this means getting up at 2 am!), I jump at it. Not only because I get off work from an eight hour shift at 12:30, but also because I get to be the keeper of the ipod.
No Aguilera on my watch.
Day one was a combination of the Beatles and The Fleet Foxes. Day two was The Flaming Lips and Dan Mangan. Day three was The Cold War Kids and The Cave Singers. Except for the Beatles, it was three days of indie paradise.
And then day four came around, and it was back to the radio, and Miss Aguilera trying to show everyone how many notes she can hit in three seconds. Some people call that talent. I call it indecisiveness.
But I digress.
Best part, though, was when one of the bakery girls came over to me, while I was making sandwiches, and whispered "I wish they'd stop playing this radio shit and put that other music on. The ipod music was so much better."
I would've proposed, then and there, but she was forty.