Three plays for a nickel. Favorite songs, B-sides, from New York City to Bakersfield, someone was pushing the buttons from the moment I was born. Three for a dime, three for a quarter, for every event in my life someone was picking songs. I may not have heard them, but they were playing.
"It's three songs for a dollar. What do you want to hear?" I became aware of the responsibility. Someone was being born or married, on their way home from a job having just been laid off.
"I'm not good at this, I..."
"Good at what? Pick some songs."
"I can't. It matters, and I'm no good at things that matter."
"Matters? The only thing that matters is that I just put in a dollar. I'm trying to have fun with you. Does that matter?"
Three songs to make me feel worse? Three to drive home that I just made too much out of nothing? Three I can only hope you'll like? Three songs that someone else in this place would overhear and find relevant, infuriating? I'd rather not. Leave me alone. "Sure. Let's see what they have." Three songs? I hardly recognize five. "Since when does it cost a dollar for three songs? They used to cost a nickel."
"Everything used to cost a nickel."
"And was that so bad? How about I just sing three songs for a dollar?"
"Do I get to pick them?"
"Only from my list."