The odd thing was that I’d just
arrived home from being at Sound
Source—playing with all the piano
keyboards, listening to John C,
the salesman my brother told me
to see—and my phone is ringing.
It’s Carol. Hey, I just need to vent,
she says. Hey, I say—interrupting her—
Do you have a keyboard you want to sell?
She says: I have one I’ll give to you.
I say, No, seriously; I’m looking for
a keyboard—you’re out of a job—I’ll
pay you! Do you know if it’s a full
keyboard, or just 66 keys? She says,
I don’t know—the whole thing, like
always. You plug it into the computer.
I say, Oh, I don’t want to plug it into
a computer; I want one I can plug
right into the wall. She says, I thought
you said you needed a keyboard for
your computer! I say, No, I need a
keyboard so I can learn to play piano.
What did you want to vent about?
She says: jobs on Craigslist are a scam.
I say, yeah—the keyboards there
are aren’t any good either. Okay,
see you tomorrow, she says.