Cacophony

Yesterday, we were perusing a really cool, modern, city bike shop. While making our purchases, sitting right by the cash register, I noticed a little display, of tiny bike bells, guaranteed to make the loudest, longest ringing sound that a bike bell has ever made. So like any mature middle-aged person, I rang one of the bells. Sure enough, the advertisements were not a lie. There were several different colors of bells on the display, so without really thinking, more on impulse, I guess, I decided to try every color at once (as if the color of the metal was going to make any difference in the sound). It was like a little bell symphony – a loud and annoying and never-ending one.

The clerk had a wincing look on her face and a tight smile as she wrapped up our purchases.

“Ugh. I’m sorry about my lack of impulse control,” I said. “You probably hate these bells. It’s like the stores that keep their animated holiday decorations right by the register. While the rest of us are all kind of enchanted by the bobbing Elvis Christmas dog belting out “I’ll Have a Blue Christmas” with just a press of its cute little paw in a mitten, the cashier is ready to beat anyone black and blue with the mechanical Elvis dog, because she or he has already seen and heard the dog’s little song and dance, 18,942 times and it isn’t even Halloween yet.”

“Exactly,” she said with a fatigued look on her face, watching my hands very closely, just daring me to make the unfortunate decision to ring yet another bell.

I just smiled, thanked her, took my package and left. I’m a mature woman. Plus, I think that being pelted by a box of metal bike bells would be very painful.