Invisible Touch (nonfic)

The last time I recall thinking was regarding a song stuck in my head. I couldn't recall the name of the artist, the title, the lyrics, the verses, the hook, nor could I hum the chorus. With this fresh form of recollection of the unknown, I began to ponder my situation in life.
I had been unemployed for about six months, and was currently training to knock on peoples doors in order to count the inhabitants in the United States. Throughout the redundant training where things like "There will be no overtime," and "This is how you correctly write your name on a form," I began to recall a song. Maybe not a song, but a memory of a song. Maybe not a memory, but a glimpse of what music sticks in my head.
The song or memory or whatever stayed with me, overtook my mind, created a hole in my brain and a hold on my mind. Lost and attempting to recall anything about the unknown song, I pondered in deep concentration, ignoring the lesson on how to correctly write numbers down. I finally recalled the chorus of the song, but still could not remember the lyrics or verses. I could hear a man singing the song in my head: it was bizarre, without words, and competely 80's. The style narrowed my options down to Genesis/Phil Collins or Peter Gabriel: I had convinced myself that one of these men were singing the mysterious song. So what was I to do? Call my dad.
My father is the type of person who I can call out of the blue and ask "What is that song about the cake in the rain?" and he has an answer. More than that, he usually has the correct answer. More than that, he will take a large chunk out of his day to research it, give you the back story, burn a cd for you, and relay the story of how the song or concept affected his life. But I digress.
"Hey," my father said, "What's up?"
"What's that song by Peter Gabriel or Genesis that isn't Sledgehammer, Calling in the air, or Land of confusion?"
"How's it go?"
"I don't remember." I hummed what I could remember, but I admit, it wasn't very good.
"Who's it by?"
"The more I think about it, I think it's Genesis."
"Hold on, I'm buying dipers." My sister and her 11 month old child were going to be in town for the weekend.
"It's either Genesis or Phil Collins, but it might be Peter Gabriel."
"Is it Land of Confusion?"
"No, I already said that, I know how Land of Confusion goes. Isn't that the video with the puppets?"
"You're thinking of Sledgehammer."
"No, That one has claymation."
"Oh yeah, your mother loves that video"
"She loves Peter Gabriel"
"Yeah, so how does it go again?" I hummed what I remembered again.
"I'm pretty sure there's a key change in there. It's Genesis." I was pretty sure about it at that point.
"Why don't you bing it?" My father is currently obsessed with bing.
"I would have youtube'd it, but I'm not near a computer. Heh, bing it."
"What, bing is great; it will play snippits of songs by just mousing over the thumbnails."
"Okay, but that won't help me now. This song has been stuck in my head all day, I just need to know what it is."
"Well I don't know what it is."
"That's okay, I'll call someone else. How have you been?"
"Alright. Are you at training?"
"Waiting for the bus." I didn't tell him that I missed it while I was getting change and a cheese danish from the Greyhound bus station. I figured it was irrelevant, much like adding it to this story.
"Try singing it again." I did.
"I think the first word is she." I repeated the song, using she as the first word.
"I don't know, are you sure it's Genesis?"
"I think my bus is coming," I lied. "Thanks anyway, I'll see you tomorrow."
"Alright, I love you, bye."
I was annoyed, with this stupid song stuck in my head, and I was at a loss of what to do. I thought I would have to wait until I got home to relieve myself of this musical plague. So I called my sister to bitch.
"What's that song by Genesis?"
"Hi, what's up?"
"Not too much."
"Land of Confusion?"
"No. It might be Peter Gabriel."
"Sled-"
"No."
"Calling in the air?"
"No, the other one."
"Can you hum a few bars?"
"Dad didn't know it." I hummed to the best of my ability. If I was wrong with how the song went, I was confident in my wrongness.
"Hold on, let me put you on speakerphone."
"Um... okay. Are you at work?"
"Yeah, Megan might know."
"Alright," I hummed again.
"Invisible touch!" Megan said halfway through the chorus.
"Thank You! Love you! Bye!" I said as the bus rounded the corner, and I rode home, singing "hmm hmm hmm hmm, invisible touch yeah... hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm, hmm hmm hmm hmm Hmm hmm hmm."