Pimp-Slapped by Karma

A few days ago I posted about songs I used to like but don't any more. I need to be more careful in the future.
   After I worked out this morning I went by the local Famima store to pick up some Sweet Leaf Tea, my way of staying connected with Texas. The first thing I noticed when I walked in the door was the music - 'Children of the Sun' by Billy Thorpe. One of the songs on my list and one that I have not heard in quite a while.
   Mildly amused at the synchronicity of the universe, I got my tea and then got in line to pay. There's a rhythm to these transactions: put your stuff on the counter, the person scans the bar code, the computer gives you a total, you pay, they bag, you leave.
   Not this time.
   I was behind a guy buying a muffin and a liter of bottled water. At first. He turned out to be one of those guys who keeps adding stuff on, one thing at a time. First he wanted his muffin heated in the microwave. Then he asked for a pack of Marlboros. Then he wanted some sesame wings. He got his total, just about to pay, then decided that he wanted a cup of coffee too.
   The whole time I'm standing behind The Eternal Customer 'Children of the Sun' continues to play, assaulting my ears. I'm no longer mildly amused, now I know I'm being punished. For God's sake, the damn song is almost seven minutes long, and I'm being held hostage by this sixty-year-old California stoner who seems to think he's in the drive through at Taco Bell at two in the morning.
   Finally - FINALLY - the guy pays his fifteen dollars for an armload of crap, and I get to pay. When I hand over my cash, the song ends, and so does my haunting by the spirit of Billy Thorpe.
   The universe works in mysterious ways.