Like a Lightbulb
I had lunch at Fenton's, one of those places with marble floors and metal-backed chairs that sells ice cream sundaes ranging in size from "capybara head" to "influences local tides." Great place for food and sugar, except apparently around the holidays. This is because of the song selection.
When I went in they were playing this kind of mambo version of "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," complete with some guy shouting "Hey!" or perhaps "Ay!" at intervals. A few minutes later, I noticed the song had still not come to an end. A few minutes after that, I realized the song had come to an end after all, and had started up again. A few minutes later, it was clear that this was all the song we were going to get, and we were going to get a lot of it.
It wasn't until we finished our meal that I got up the nerve to ask the waiter if he had noticed they were playing the same song over and over again. It's hard to ask someone whether they've noticed something maddeningly obvious without sounding like a snot.
Yes, he had noticed. Apparently this was not a new development at Fenton's. For some period of time the Mambo de Rudolph had been the one and only song playing. I can't imagine. I was about ready to bolt like a startled antelope before I hit the bottom of my sundae. If one of the Fenton's employees commits some horrible, bloody crime between now and the new year, the Republicans better keep me off the jury because that sucker's walking off scot-free.