Sometimes you get that eerie feeling that you're in a movie. The mise en scene just seems too perfect.
It wasn't "Stuck in the Middle with You," and I wasn't getting my ear sliced off by a jewel thief with a chromatic moniker. But yesterday I was on the phone with a corporate "customer care" department (I hate that term) and the representative asked politely if she could put me on hold while she tried to figure out if I was lying. I was standing at the window watching cars roll by, the afternoon sun glinting briefly on the smudged glass of their windshields. Noting the soft woosh
each car made as it passed, I said, "Okay." There was the expected rattle and squelch as the woman pressed the hold button, set down the receiver and let the line switch over to the automated on-hold system. Which immediately began playing "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction."