Electric Light Orchestra - On The Third Day - Showdown
[ The Guilty ]
Coats! Wallets! Belts! Anything in your pockets! Cell Phones! Anything valuable! Now folks! NOW! I am asking you now because I mean NOW! Don’t think that won’t cause you any trouble. Get it out and where I can see it! [Repeat 5 times]. The murmur from the guilty was constant. The smell from outside the courthouse was kept from following each individual as they entered due to the fact that they were walking through revolving doors. The smell, well it used to be affiliated with what holidays, or christmas, or whatever the fuck you want to call it(there are enough individuals holding onto their opinions about what to call it, so shall pass on that one). Anyway, the smell. Yeah, in some other world where I asked less questions and did less, it reminded me of that fat old man in the red suit. But as I walked through the tinted glass revolving door(s) who’s glass had already been greeted by the oils of nearly one hundred nervous hands, I used my shoulder(it’s winter and the bug finds himself on my hands often enough. I would hate to catch a case while filing for one. Though dealing with either is far from ever being on my list of things to do), I was faced with sterile smell of public city gas forced heat. Anyway, it was my third time there and though I could say I knew the ropes it didn’t take away from that feeling that came over me. The first time the feeling came it was accompanied by irregular visits to the bathroom. This time just the feeling, not so much bathroom. Perhaps over-sharing, but if you’ve gotten this far I would have to argue that your level of interest exceeds the norm. Anyway(again), being there sucked, but you gotta handle your biz ya know. The first worked in my favor and even though the feeling revisited this time the universe’s signs followed me. The alarm clock persitence, the long shower with no cold water intermission, the light traffic, the train conductor’s shared happiness over the loudspeaker(causing some to roll their eyes), the prolonged stop at Miller street to hear the voice of the young gentleman strumming along to the words of “A Change Is Gonna Come.” All these and then I found a 50 dollar bill. Okay so no 50, but that would have been nice. What also would have been nice… being in bed, still dreaming. Shits gettin’ taken care of though. Slowly. The tortoise finished before me several times. Showdown after showdown. // I used to hate Bill Murray, I also didn’t try guac until I was 25. I have both on my team now.