At the 99 cent store. As I approach the counter to make my purchase, a woman behind me is repeating, with great emphasis, the phrase, ‘They killin’ it!’ At first I have no idea what she’s talking about, but then I realize she’s referring to a pop song playing over the store’s PA. I notice that the clerk – a Muslim woman wearing a head scarf – is laughing at the customer’s comment. It seems that the radio station is playing a pop song that’s been in heavy rotation, and as the clerk rings up my purchase she commiserates with her other customer – Yes, the song has indeed been playing nonstop. The customer adds, ‘I wake up and that damn song’s stuck in my head. It’s in my REM!’ I laugh, in part out of surprise that the woman is referring to her dream state as her ‘REM’, in part because I’m caught in the middle of this round of small talk. The customer takes this as an indication that I too have grown sick of the song, and says something directly to me, like, ‘Right? They play that shit all day long!’ But I have absolutely no idea what the song is and haven’t even noticed it playing in the store except as a repetitive jangle in the background.