I’m puttering around the apartment this morning, having my coffee, some lively African music is playing, and there’s a knock at the door. It’s the Con Ed guy needing to read to my meter and see just how much electricity I use each month. He comes in, starts to enter numbers into his machine, then he turns to me and says, “Looks like you’re gettin’ BUSY in the mornin’!”
“EXCUSE ME?” I say, taken off guard.
He motions to where the music is coming from.
“OH,” I say, relieved.
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