[ WP ] a man driven almost insane from not remembering the title of a song overheard a stranger humming its tune

*God damnit, what was the name? * I walked out the front door of my office building, clearly frustrated by something. The sound of a Louis Armstrong trumpet cadenza was looping endlessly in my head. St. Louis Blues? No. One of the infinite versions of Take the A Train? Not it. I climbed into the drivers seat of my car. `` Gahhh!!'' I screamed aloud while simultaneously slamming on the horn, I could see pedestrians casting concerned glances my way. I drove off, and as I pulled onto my street I took a glance in my rear view mirror, a big, black escalade was tailgaiting me. `` Get off my ass!'' I yelled into the emptiness of my car as I quickly pressed my foot down, brake checking the car behind me. I pulled into my driveway seething. *What the hell is going on? Am I this angry over the title of a song? * Every time my brain started to grasp the name of the track, it slipped away, and every time the title escaped me, my anger rose and darkened, like a thunder cloud off on the horizon. 
 
 Instead of exiting my vehicle immediately, I leaned back in my chair taking deep breaths, trying to calm myself. Every attempt I made to clear my mind was thwarted by Louis Armstrong and his enticing melodies. *Why am I getting so angry? * The rational and emotional sides of my brain were clashing like tidal waves, and despite my best efforts, rationality was losing. *Alright, I need a fucking drink* I thought, and climbed out of my car. I started walking up my driveway. I was ready to punch a hole in my wall, but then, for the millionth time that day, I heard the tune, but this time it was a whistle, and it did not come from my mind, but from the other side of the street. 
 
 I spun around on my heels, and saw my neighbor, happily gardening and whistling away, oblivious to the pain he was causing me. I marched across the street like a man on a mission from god. My neighbor saw me approaching and greeted me happily. 
 
 `` Hey there neighbor!'' 
 
 `` That song. Tell me the name.'' 
 
 `` Uhh, what song?'' He said, with an anxious chuckle in his voice. 
 
 `` The one you were just whistling!'' My voice was getting louder. 
 
 `` I'm sorry, but I ca n't remember it!'' He was visibly frightened at this point. 
 
 *No fucking way* I had spent all day agonizing over this, and here is the man who could deliver me from my torment... and he says he ca n't remember? `` BULLSHIT!'' I screamed, grabbing his shoulders. 
 
 `` Hey man let go!'' He cried out. Before I knew what happened, I felt soft flesh impacting my fist. It... felt so good. `` I know...'' *thwack* `` you...'' *thwack* `` remember!'' I stopped for breath, and looked at my victim lying upon the ground, whimpering, his face a bloody mess. I stared a moment at my fist, now coated in scarlet. I sat down, my mind in a state of disbelief. *what have I done? * I thought. I could now hear the sound of sirens approaching. 
 
 I made no struggle as the police handcuffed me and put me in the back of the car. The sound of the radio was my only companion in that lonely prison. 
 
 `` And now, for jazz in the afternoon here on WGVU 90.4! We're going to start this session with a classic, and a favorite of mine.'' Said the MC. `` West End Blues, by Louis Armstrong!'' And there it was again. The trumpet cadenza rising and falling beautifully like the cool breeze blowing on the ocean shore. And then it came, at first, a low and rhythmic chuckle, which grew to a hysteric laughter, rising and falling, almost like Louis himself.
