Our local radio station is running a contest to win Madonna tickets. I have officially become that guy in the movie One Crazy Summer who sits by the phone all summer long waiting for the damn jingle. I’ve heard the jingle, I’ve called the radio station, and I’ve been caller three – twice. All the other attempts have been greeted with a busy signal or infinite ringing. Yesterday I could sense the jingle was coming so I had my cell phone ready to go, number programmed, keypad unlocked, thumb on the talk button and then I dropped my phone. The battery popped out and as I was searching for it on the floor of my car there was the jingle.
Funny thing is, I didn’t even want to go to the concert this year. I really don’t need another half hour of Madonna playing classical guitar during La Isla Bonita. No offense Madge. But ever since the contest started all I want is to be caller ten…not caller three.