the early morning herald

When we first moved into Rains, Ellen and I would wake up to the sound of this incredibly ominous recording. There was something seriously off about those disjointed brass notes, and when I first heard it, I was convinced that it was some sort of herald of the apocalypse. It was all the more disturbing because I might just be the deepest sleeper on earth, having slept through earthquakes, fire alarms, intoxicated people throwing up in my room (to name a few); so for me to wake up to the sound of this recording must have meant that it was something from another world.

I mentioned it to our other roommate, A., and she revealed that it was a taco truck.

N: "taco truck?"
A: "Yeah, when I worked in the area, that truck would drive by our workplace every morning"
N: (thinking) "who the fuck eats tacos at 9am?"

The more compelling question, though, is why on earth don't we have an ice cream truck drive by every morning? We live right across the street from an elementary school! At any rate, I guess it's marginally more exciting to live on the same route as the apocalyptic taco truck.