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April 9th, 2014

Deutschmarks or Dollars.

Every time my work phone rings and it reads PRIVATE NUMBER, I immediately get Tina Turner's Private Dancer in my head. "Private dancer," I'll sing quietly before I pick it up, "DANCER FOR MONEY," I look over at Jesus Guy. "I'll do what you want me to do!"

"What?" he says, emphasizing the h.

"Any old music will do," I tell him as I turn back to address the phone before voicemail picks up. Then as I'm discussing drywall or rebar with some dude, I put my hand over the receiver and whisper, "what?" emphasizing the h. Any old music will do, Tina? How could you? You're an artiste.

This morning I thought I heard Selena Gomez sing, "It's like the ground is crumbling underneath my feet; There's gonna be an assault when you get back to me."

I laughed and thought that yes, that was about right. He'd better get online tonight lest he wants to meet angry little fists upon his departure from the train.

PS. She was saying "monsoon." Not as funny.