Sometimes when I get on an elevator
, I listen intently for the elevator music. When I hear nothing, I unconcious
ly start to hum
out my own elevator music. This is disconcert
ing for the other people in the elevator, but it scare
s me the most: who has brainwash
ed me enough to get me making my own elevator music?
Every once in a while I catch myself humming Escalator Music to myself. If and when this happens, I immediately have to go and buy a Dairy Queen large tropical blizzard. This quiets my nerves enough to get the down escalator out of the way and me out to the car.
On the drive home I try to conjecture why I make my own music. I have come up with only one solution so far, and it fits together rather nicely: The Man is sending my brain wierd signals from satellites orbiting the earth.