Tuesday, July 21, 2020

Someone’s phone is ringing, here in the men’s room. He’s not answering. I can’t see anyone else in here from within this stall, but I’m pretty sure of the person’s pronoun. On second thought, it could be the cleaner, but she tends to answer her phone quickly, speaking in a language that I can’t identify. The repeating ringtone is great. I know the riff from somewhere, but can’t recall what it’s from. I’m tempted to ask, but people tend not to talk to each other in restrooms, and I don’t know how to say “ringtone” in Hebrew. Most of my vocabulary is biblical, and that word didn’t come up much. Neither of the apps on my phone helps, what with the roaring ventilation and the mix of watery sounds surrounding me. The tune gets stuck in my head for a while. I go through my collection and try to narrow it down. It’s a guitar riff from a piece of progressive rock or some genre close to it. A keyboard is going in a different time signature with spastic accents from the drums. I can’t quite spot it. When I try again later, I realize that one of the riffs I was checking it against has overwritten it in my ear’s memory. I have forgotten what it was. I may never know, unless I’m in the men’s room again when the same person decides not to answer his phone.