Sailing through a driveway of a fancy hotel, dressed to ridiculous nines of all kinds, we blared music to the rich and refined. It was our job to be fools and cause trouble, and if one did resist, we'd make it all double, forcing them to step out of their thick-walled bubble. There was a man in a suit by the doors and I thought he'd be floored by this ruckus he abhored. Then, much to my surprise, right before our eyes
pulled a harmonica out of his pocket
and played Happy Birthday
the corners of his mouth curled in a small smile.
the world stopped for a split...
He totally pased my trial.
Singing to the throng, we rode on along, wailing loud and long - the new Happy Thursday song.
The moment was made beautiful by me being wrong.
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