Mood Music

Jack paced the room in a depressed quandary. "I feel like crap," he thought, "my day was hell and now it's over but damned if I can pick the right CD to lift me up out of this funk." He shuffled over to the fridge for a beer and saw the magnet his buddy Marge had put there a few days ago. "Mood Music: Can't Decide What To Play? Call Us and Let Our Experts Decide For You." What the hell, he thought, grabbing the beer and making a mental note of the 800 number.

He picked up the phone and dialed while staring absentmindedly at the glowing LED's on the front panels of his silent stereo equipment. A hip, friendly voice answered on the second ring. "Mood Music. Whassup?" Jack paused for a moment, doubtful. "Can't decide what I want to hear. I almost put on some old Brownsville Station but second-guessed and it's only got worse. For twenty minutes I've been pacing and staring at the shelves of discs. I had a brutal day and I can't decide whether I want really loud fast Rock or some earthy Blues or Gregorian Chants or what. I'm desperate. I called on a whim. This is ridiculous. What was I thinking?" Jack was about to hang up when he was stopped dead by, "Sir. "What I Like About You" by the Romantics. Do you have it or shall I play it down the phone to you?"

Jack's heart skipped a beat. Damn, that's one of my favourite tunes and I haven't heard it in ages. Amazingly, he felt better already, just the idea of the tune in his head, the raucous guitars, the handclaps...

Feeling numb, he let the phone drop from his hands and reached out to the nearest row of discs. The right one fairly slid into his hand and moments later he was dancing around the room, droplets of beer foam arcing into the air from the mug in his right hand as he attempted to use said mug as an air-guitar slide device.

At Mood Music, Phil quietly punched the Release button and took the next call. "Hi, my name is Marge and I'm in love with this guy Jack that I've been buddies with for years and he doesn't know I love him and..."