Last night Jenn and I went for an aimless drive in the country and at the last minute stopped in at the Dairy King (no kidding) for a treat. While we were waiting, one of the other customers was chatting with the guy at the till about a mutual buddy of theirs.

“Yeah, so Jim just takes his guitar down to Sparks street and busks for a couple hours when he needs some money. He says he can make $30 an hour easy, and it’s not like he doesn’t like playing guitar anyways.”

Jenn asked me why I don’t busk, and I was thinking all the way home, why aren’t I doing that? It’s not like I don’t have the time, and I couldn’t play four or five songs a few times just to see what would happen in an hour. Then, as I do, I start thinking about the legality of it. Am I just a pan-handler if I don’t have a permit or something? And I’ve heard that for some places you have to audition at the beginning of the season to see if you’re good enough to busk. So, I don’t want to check it out and find out that I can’t busk, but I don’t want to go busk and find out that I shouldn’t be. I’ll probably end up not doing either.

But, back to the Dairy King (sorry, no website to prove they exist) wasn’t that the name of of Kevin and Danny’s ice cream place?