“Occupation?”

“Disc Jockey.”

“Really? Say, you’re not that disc jockey that was fired for urging that couple to do the nasty in that church, are you?”

“No, that wasn’t me.”

“Good. That was disgusting. Tell me, how come disc jockeys don’t play music anymore?”

“Huh?”

“I remember when I’d turn on the radio and the DJs would always be playing the latest by Bon Jovi and Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers. Now all they do is try to out-shock each other.”

“I’m not one of those. I’m in it for the music. In fact, my last gig was at the first station in the country to play Dave Matthews Band, Radiohead and Yanni.”

“You don’t say. By any chance were you one of those DJs that was fired for asking that pro baseball player’s widow if she had a date for the big game? That was absolutely tasteless.”

“No, I told you, I don’t do that kind of stuff. I just play the hits. You know, songs by Santana and Ozzy Osbourne mixed in with new stuff from Norah Jones or maybe Counting Crows? All music, all of the time. That sort of thing.”

“Wait a minute. Wait a minute. It’s coming to me. You’re that jock that was fired for talking that woman from Bakersfield into coming on your show, having William Shatner’s face tattooed on her behind, and then having her run naked through downtown during lunch hour singing Third Eye Blind songs so that she could win a pair of tickets for The Rolling Stones. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“That wasn’t me. I’m telling you, I don’t do that kind of an act. All I do is play music, like Peter Gabriel and Phish. I play the songs and tell the audience about the artists. Stuff like that, you know? I’m not a shock jock.”

“No? You mean, you didn’t get fired because you had too many porn stars on your show.”

“No, I didn’t have any porn stars on my show.”

“Groupies and their toys?”

“No. No groupies and their… Huh?”

“Dog fights? Trisexuals? Bum fights?”

“No, no no. For the last time. That wasn’t my shtick. I played music. James Taylor, Fingathing and 50 Cent. I wasn’t one of those jocks that pandered to the lowest common denominator with wild sexual stunts in public places. Just music, music and more music. “

“Well, no wonder they fired you.”

“Uh? Whaddya mean?”

“You’re ratings must have sucked.”