Reading Rainbow

Side note: I totally wrote this post a few days ago, before everybody whom I tagged went ahead and got tagged by others. So, fuck it, I'm not changing it. Deal.

Right now I've taken to reading when I'm bored at work.
Even though I have a very boring job, this doesn't seem to happen very often. Between sneaking onto the interweb to check my email, making fun of my various co-workers through comics, or watching episodes of South Park in the back room, I can't seem to make time for a book. Not to mention, the very moment I pick one up, a customer will probably walk in and want something. Greedy fuckers.
Either way, I do keep a book at work for these rare quiet times, and right now I'm making my way through a collective of short stories by Stuart McLean, whom you may know, is my hero. For you poor souls who know not of the Vinyl Cafe, I will explain.
Stuart writes humorous, outrageous, and strangely touching stories about a family who lives in Toronto, and largely around the husband, Dave.
Dave is a neurotic, clumsy, and often absent-minded, ex-roadie/manager for heavy rock bands, who's settled down with a family and opened "the worlds smallest record store."
Hillarity ensues as you can read, or listen, about him cooking the Christmas turkey, swallowing flys, and getting stuck in the blood pressure chair. Find more about his show here.

Either way, this is a long introduction to a relatively short entry. And by entry, I mean, I was tagged by the lovely Saviabella in a meme, and since she is going in for jaw surgery right away, I will fulfill her wishes by taking part.
The rules given to me are as follows:
Take the nearest book, open to page 123, skip the first five sentances, record the next three, and tag five people.
That's where the long introduction comes in.
Currently my at-work-reading is "The Vinyl Cafe Diaries" by My-Secret-Lover, and page 123 happens to land near the end of the story "Birthday Present" in which Dave hires a caterer for his wifes birthday, only to have the caterer go to the wrong house, clean from top to bottom, and set up for a party in a house where nobody lives.

"There is something liberating about a house without furniture. There is something musical about the voices when they bounce off empty walls. There is something about the way bare wood floors invite people to move-to slip, to slide, to become dancers."

There, doesn't that get you all hot and bothered?
Next!
Pocket Buddha
That Girl Who Blogs Stuff
Wenchwire
The Nervous Axon
Paige Stanton