When, dear dopers, WHEN will I learn?!?
So I’z in the car just toodling down the road this morning with the windows down and the sunroof open. It’s mid 60s and the sky is getting pretty light. It’s 6:45 am and I’z on my way to work. It’s the first day of summer and, even though I have a meeting for which I am compeletely unprepared, it’s chaping up to be a great morning.
Switch radio stations.
OMG, now HERE’S a blast from the past! Dusty Springfield singing “Son of a Preacher Man”. Not a super song, but it’s got a groove. Hey it’s the first day of Summer for crying out loud!
The volume goes up. Oh, yeah.
The only boy who could ever reach me was the son of a preacher man.
So I do the “white-boy-bight-the-bottom-lip” head grove dance in the car.
Takin’ time to make time. Tellin’ me it’s alright.
Massive grove working hear, people. Spritle has got his grove all kinds of ON!
I’m totally unaware of my surroundings. It’s just me and the music, lost in the moment. Belting out to beat the band - HARMONY NO LESS! (well, my own version of harmony.)
Then it happens!
I slowly become aware of the fact that it’s quiet… too quiet… around the car. At 70, with the windows down and the sunroof open there should be more noise.
CRAP!! I’m at a stoplight!! I’ve stopped!!! I’m still singing!!!
AND THE WINDOWS ARE DOWN!!!
Of course, the vehicle next to me is a construction pick-up CHOCK full of burly men.
If my life were different, it would have been a beautiful woman in a lexus who secretly dreamed of singing with Dusty Springfield and who, upon hearing my sirenesque tones, would fall madly in love with me, etc. However, it’s a bunch of beer swilling mullets with an average body weight over 200 lbs.
When will I learn?