The other day we passed by a painting crew that appeared to consist of three fierce-looking twelve year old boys who were clinging to the window ledges and blasting "Prince Igor" from a stereo. I exchanged surprised looks with my companion and dismissed it as a fluke.
Today, same crew, same classical music. This time I stopped and cocked my head in disbelief.
If it happens a third time, I'm bringing a net and some iron filings and am going to demand my three wishes.
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