I walked out of OSH, singing the refrain from the pumped-in music under my breath:

Anything you want, you got it
Anything you need, you got it
Anything at all, you got it. Baaaaabyyyy

and walked next-door into Albertsons where it picked up where I left off. “That’s odd,” I thought to myself, “either these two buildings share an elevator-music-system, or God’s trying to tell me something.”

I prefer the latter.

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