"I may be abandoning you for a while," says the Chief Loon as we walk through the front door of Barnes & Noble.
"Okay," I reply, heading in the general direction of the craft books.
"Oh, yes," says C.L. a moment later, "definitely abandoning you." She's still right behind me. Sounding a bit distressed, in fact. We're both trying to get around the couple ahead of us, who are sauntering down the center of the aisle. Mercifully, they turn off into the sports section. The way ahead is clear.
Turns out C.L. and I are both headed to the same place. Rest rooms are right next to arts & crafts.
"I may need some indemnity." say C.L., slamming shut the door of her stall. Indemnity? Maybe she means amnesty. Whatever. Something tells me this isn't the right time to ask.
"Vee?"
"Yo."
"Sing!"
"Sing?"
"Please."
A command performance. The little DJ that lives in my mind is caught napping. I have never before been called upon to provide cover for public potty noise. In a blind panic, the DJ grabs the first thing she can find and slams it onto the turntable without looking at it. This is the only reason I can think of that explains why I am throwing my head back and belting out:
"Oh, the farmer and the cowman should be friends!"
[laughter from the next stall]
"Oh, the farmer and the cowman should be friends...
I can't remember the next two lines,
'Cause I learned this 20 years ago,
But that's no reason why they can't be friends."
"Thank you."
"That is so going in the Blog."
Upon reflection, I suppose I should have been singing scat.
3 comments:
Or perhaps something by Pee Wee Hunt?
Or Olivia Newton John. Or Elton John, for that matter. As long as we're heading down this road, it may as well be paved with yellow bricks.
I don't think laughing helps, does it, really?
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