Gas Station Blues
When I walked into a nearby conbini (that’s convenience store to you lot) the woman behind the counter started singing, and said she felt like singing a reggae song. She asked me if I sung reggae, and I said, “Not professionally.”
I know she meant well, but I hate it when people do that. Especially today.
She wouldn’t let up, though. She asked me to sing for her when I was checking out. “Sing what?”
“A reggae song.”
“Oh, I don’t know”
“Make one up,” she said.
“How about the I want to get out of this gas station blues?”