The super market

---Do a doo do doo da doo da doo.. Oh sorry, I was playing my sax and decided to start a blog while I was playing my sax so I guess a few of the last notes of my avant garde solo wound up on the blog instead of my sax. Yeah, I’m pretty awesome that way- I am able to transmutate fierce sax sounds from sonic vibrations to an ASCII character set.

So today I was doing some shopping in the super market, playing a fierce Coltrane inspired solo on my tenor sax and while I was in the baked beans section, some peroxide up cougar flashing the tan in a can said to me, “Excuse me, but what are you doing?”

An' I was like, “Chill with this deal, baaaaay-bee!” And then I buzzed out a sweetand sour half time routine in d minor. I said, “Baby, I’m the sax man, it’s what I do, I say, I’m the sax man.” I made sure to accentuate the “X” in sax, so I guess really, I’m the saXXXXX man.

Well she thought I said, “Sachs” as in “Sachs Fifth Ave” so she quips back, “Well, then, maybe you can help me shop for some new summer clothes, hmmm…?”

And I was jiving like, “No you planned tanned flashin your gams, I play the sax so smooth you’d think your ears were on a slip and slide.” With that I ripped out a nice 32 bar upbeat ragtime ditty, and slid up to the check out counter.

The teenage cashier smacked her gum, jangled her plastic earrings, let her gut sag out, and said, “That’ll be seventeen twenty three.”

I blasted a sharp B flat in her ear, grabbed my bags, and woozed out the door along with some nice vibrato.