Charles carried his banjo everywhere. He sat on park benches and played it on buses, He had a pleasing voice and never stopped smiling. His fingers flew across the strings. Charles had to quit his job as a hedge fund manager because of the stress.
But things were different now.
Eunice was someone who spoke her mind. When she saw Charles sitting in the park, beaming and nodding to all, she walked over and studied him. Sir, I do not think a whisk broom is meant to be employed in that way, she said.
Charles was baffled. Who was this crazy woman and why didn't she enjoy his music?
Would you like to hear something by James Taylor?
Who doesn't like a good banjo player?
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