The serial-killin' gospel-lovin' tour bus driver

I may not be religious but I don't like to rain on other peoples parades, either. That being said, how much goddamn gospel music can one person listen to?!

The lady who runs the little candy store in the lobby is always and I mean ALWAYS listening to gospel. ALL-WAYS as in she is never not listening to a gospel CD.

Am I missing something?! Doesn't it get old after a while no matter how full of the holy spirit you are? Gospel, all day, everyday?! It's insane.

I mean even if you prayed and prayed and your god granted you whatever you were wishing for, I think he'd be cool with you taking a break here and there from all that gospel. I'm sure he knows you're grateful by now. Even he is up there on a cloud like "Jesus Christ, doesn't this bitch listen to anything else?!"

We had a bus driver once on a U.S tour who we affectionately nicknamed "The Human Frog" for he was short and squat and always wore green corduroy ensembles. And all he listened to was gospel; all night long as he dozed off trying to keep this 45 foot / 50,000 pound beast on the road he would be blasting gospel cassettes, swerving and singing along. It was something from an unwritten Stephen King novel.

We used to take showers after the gig in his hotel room and he'd always have the local phonebook on the bed, opened to the escort page. We paid him in cash every week so he would always have his stacks on the nightstand, fanned out to let the dead presidents breathe.

One time we noticed a red high heeled shoe on the floor. He said he had no idea how it got there. We deduced three plausible possibilities:

1- A hooker/escort somehow left it there: While this seems like the most probable and logical explanation I'd imagine walking with one high heel shoe to be quite a challenge therefore you'd definitely know it was missing and you'd wanna look for it before walking out the door.

2- He killed the owner of the high heel shoe, cut her up and stuffed the remains in the Murphy Bed closet but in the frantic struggle, she kicked off one shoe and he forgot to hide it because he was too busy cleaning her blood off the desk lamp.

3- When he was alone in his hotel room every night, he dressed up like a woman, fanned out all his cash on the bed and rolled around in it singing "Hey, Big Spender" in a giddy falsetto referring to himself in the third-person.

The moral of the story is if you listen to gospel and only gospel all day everyday, you're nuts; and if you aren't nuts now, you will soon go nuts.

The End.