Every afternoon as I get my transfusion of coffee to push me through the rest of the workday, I am confronted with an intolerable soundtrack that endlessly loops as the shifts pass. Some days it's James Taylor fondly recollecting his days in a Massachusetts insane asylum; or it's the Cowboy Junkies lamenting about suicide and rural isolation in upper Ontario.
I have to be in a melancholic mood to listen to Joni Mitchell, but poor Starbucks workers must endure this suicidal poetry ad infinitum.
Conversation with Starbucks workers
Me: I have one question for you: What do you think of this music playing all day long?
African American male cashier: It's awful and so depressing.
Me: Yes, it's so depressing. I might throw myself from my office window if I had to listen to the Cowboy Junkies throughout the day.
African American male cashier: And it plays all day long. But we just tune it out and don't hear it after awhile.
Asian American male cashier, nodding his head: We don't even hear it playing anymore.
Latino male baristo, smiling and nodding his head: It's terrible but we have to listen to it because we work here.
1 comment:
Go Cowboy Junkies! Haruff haruff!
Post a Comment