Today as you approach your apartment, you'll notice that your spirit is a little lighter, the neighborhood feels a little more welcoming, and you won't be able to help but smile at everyone you see. When you're half a block away, you'll realize what makes today so special. The Doo Wop group that has been singing "Under The Boardwalk" outside of the Quizno's over and over again without pause for years is presently silent.
They'll still be there. All five of them in their matching gray sweatshirts spread out across the unused steps rising up to the sealed second door of the industrial building across the street. But today, they won't be hunched over in a circle snapping their fingers and harmonizing at ear bleeding volume. Today they'll just sit there together. Silent, and at peace. Approach them.
"You guys on break?" ask.
The one in the middle, the one who always sings the "We'll be havin' some fun" part will say, "We just finished."
"Just finished what?"
The bass singer, the one who does all of the "Bao Bao Bao" stuff will tell you in his deep, seductive growl, "Our work is complete."
"What are you guys talking about?"
The tenor with all the silver bracelets on both wrists will say, "We're not gonna sing 'Under The Boardwalk' no more."
Your heart will leap in your chest at the thought. And almost as quickly it will sink into your stomach and you'll ask with fear, "So what are you gonna sing now?"
"Nothing," the one in the middle will say. "It's time to move on. It was our intention to give something back to the neighborhood."
"By singing 'Under The Boardwalk' over and over again day in and day out. That's more like a haunting."
"Call it what you will," the bass will bark. "But we have someplace else to sing now."
At that all of them will laugh heartily. You'll continue on your way home, uncomfortable with what just transpired. You should be thrilled that you're never going to hear that menace of a song again, but something about the cryptic explanation they gave and the way they laughed at the end. You'll feel like you've been had. When you reach the end of the block and you glance back at the steps, the Doo Wop group will be gone.
Later tonight, go to the library and look up all the local Doo Wop groups on microfiche. You'll come upon a story from 1967 about a Doo Wop group that was found to be responsible for a string of burglaries in the neighborhood. They used their spot on the steps as a chance to case all the apartments on the block and note the comings and goings of residents. The heat came down on them fast when one of their burglaries was interrupted and they were forced to bludgeon the homeowner to death. It happened just around the corner from you. They must have thought they were in the clear because they went right back to their spot on the steps, singing their songs. The police came looking and the members of the group drew guns. All five of them were killed in the shootout, right there on the steps.
You'll look closely at the yellowed photo taken of the group while they were still alive. It will be the exact same faces, the exact same sweatshirts. The men who've been tormenting you with their singing have been dead for nearly forty years.
"My God," you'll think. "They were ghosts. Probably forced to sing to the neighborhood for decades as penance for their crimes. This was purgatory for them as they waited to pass on to the next world."
But that would mean that God believes that making them sing Doo Wop to the neighborhood is a repayment to the God-fearing citizens that they've wronged. Which in turn would have to imply that God really likes Doo Wop. Therefore, you are going to have to renounce God and all for which he stands.
Become evil. Fight the Doo Wop.
Happy The Doo Wop Group Stopped Day!