The story goes on

They tell you what to say
They tell you what to do
They tell you what to think
Baby, just don't be you.

"Whoa! What are these mournful lyrics about, on New Year's Eve? Cheer up."

"There. Now you're doing it."

"Doing what?"

"Telling me I can't be sad because it's a particular date on the calendar. I can be as sad as I want."

"What are you sad about?"

"Well, if I wasn't composing a song, I'd be writing a Facebook status, thus: 2018 ending with a door I thought would always be open slamming in my face. Here's hoping for better in the new year."

"I'm sorry, but when you talk in lyrics and in FB statuses, or is it statii, it’s like a chicken talking to a duck! I haven't the foggiest notion what you mean, whether I'm supposed to comfort you or laugh or sing along or what."

"Laugh? You'd consider laughing as one of those options?"

"Well, only because I don't know what'll help. Now tell me what happened."

"Okay, I'll tell you. You know the restaurant? The one where I sing every weekend?"

"Sure I know it. I've come there and heard you a gazillion times."

"Yeah, well you won't any more."

"Why not?"

"Because now they say I have to pay them if I want to sing there."

"Pay ... wait ... pay ... but no, no, there's got to be a misunderstanding. They have to pay you."

"Well, they're big and famous now so policies have changed so they charge rent to any performer because they figure they're getting the performer an audience."

"Wait -- but you've been there since they started, six years ago. You got them customers to start with. Heck, I only go there because you perform there. Otherwise -- well, the food isn't too earth-shaking."

"Yeah. But now they say, I got to pay, by the hour or the day, if I want to play ..."

"Okay, okay."

"Hey, you matched my rhyme. Let's put a hat out and sing that on the streets."

"No. We won't. I'm going to get to the bottom of this money thing. Why suddenly? It was all okay yesterday."

"Yesterday rhymes with those other words, too. I'm telling you. Let's set up on the street. We'll be great."

"Are you drunk?"

"Maybe. What's it to you?"

"I'm going to get to the bottom of this money thing. I'll drop you home first. Come on."

(Later)

"What the heck? Why you chucking pebbles at my window at 2 AM?"

"Shhh. I didn't want to wake your sister or your parents. Now let me in."

"Okay, okay, I'm coming There. Now, what's up?"

"I found out. I got the guy drunk for New Year's Eve and I found out."

"Found out what?"

"They're way behind on the rent. They need money to pay it. So they're trying to get money any way they can. It's nothing to do with you or your singing."

"So we still have to set up on the street. And none of that rhymes ..."

"Yeah, it doesn't."

"So how does this story end?"

"It hasn't ended yet, my friend. It hasn't. It's still going on."