|You're wondering who I am.|
Talking songs is like a doing street magic. It doesn't always work. Hell, it MOSTLY doesn't work. But when it does it's amazing.
When I say "it works" this can be two different things. The first success is when people know immediately what you're doing but instead of eye rolling or groaning they join in.
I'm doing community theatre and our play opened this weekend. It's called the 10 by 10 (ten plays with ten actors, ten directors, all done in ten minutes). It's great fun and the cast is enjoyable. A girl that I call "WannaBeCarol" because she has this insane love of Carol Burnett, was talking about some dude (or girl, I guess) that I didn't know. Not liking being excluded from a conversation I casually said about this person, who's name was Jesse (or Jessie)...
"Oh wait. I know Jesse. Jesse was a friend. You know he's always been a good friend of mine."
Mercedes added, "But lately somethings changed."
Scooter: "It ain't hard to define."
WeatherGirl: "Jesse's got himself a girl and I wanna make her mine."
Me: ""Cause she's watching him with those eyes."
Scooter: "She's loving with that body."
Mercedes and WeatherGirl: "I just know it"
WannaBeCarol: "And he's holding her in his arms late late at night."
Everybody: "I wish that I had Jesse's girl!"
|Best of??? I haven't even gotten started yet!|
Ah, joviality! A true success!
But it's the second type of success that I love the most, probably because I'm an asshole. It is the one that makes me cry myself to sleep at night because I'm laughing so hard! And because I just started summer classes in Microeconomics I'm surrounded by people younger than 20 who don't know anyone who doesn't have a $ymbol in their name. Or is that symbo! ? Or SIMbol? Anyway, behold!
Aldo and I are not tight in the sense that we hang out after school, like Buffy and Willow or anything. But we have a lot in common so we tend to hang out during lunch or talk for a few minutes when we cross paths on campus. This particular day is sweltering hot but we cross paths and hang out for couple minutes on the way to our respective classes. While talking, he sees a girl he knows and says something very tasteful and classy about what she's wearing. I remark about how lovely she looks in her outfit and mention something about the charm with which she carries herself. It was all very loving and non-pervy. Then, he calls her over and then says to me, "Can you "Song her"?" I guess this is going to be our new term for it. So, I say, "Hell yeah, I'll song her!"
My brain kicks into overdrive, but I don't have any ideas. Maybe I'll wing it. He introduces her as "YoungGirl" and I say hello while not looking down her shirt for any reason. Girls are not meat! Be respectful, even if they are wearing something see-thru.
She says hello and small talk starts and it's hotter than Mickey Roarke's balls outside and I wonder if there will ever be a place to start when YoungGirl asks what we were standing in the heat talking about. Aldo looks at me and I have it.
"I've got a secret I've been hiding under my skin."
"Oooh," YoungGirl says. "This sounds good."
"My heart is human." I look up at the sun and add, "my blood is boiling. My brain...IBM."
She doesn't get the IBM reference, but she understands blood boiling, of that I have no doubt. She grimaces and adds, "It's supposed to be over 100 again today. I don't know how ya'll do it."
"Well, if you see me acting strangely, don't be surprised."
"'cause you'll be dying of heat stroke!" she says.
Aldo is trying not to piss himself.
"Nah," I say. "I'm just a man who needed someone and somewhere to hide."
"Wait," YoungGirl says, "is this what you guys were talking about?"
"Yes. Somewhere to hide to keep me alive."
Aldo says, "Somewhere to hide to keep me alive."
I break, but she doesn't notice. She's intrigued. I'm sweating and my head hurts from trying not to laugh any harder.
"What are you two talking about? What did you do?"
We both try to get a hold of ourselves. I'm more successful than Aldo. I lean in a little closer to YoungGirl.
"I'm not a robot without emotion. I'm not what you see."
"Ok," she says, really trying to understand.
"I'm here to help you with your problems so we can be free."
"I'm not a hero, I'm not a savior. Forget what you know."
She leans back and puts a hand on your hip. "I don't know anything about you." She looks at Aldo and he nods in my direction as if to say, "You'd better listen to this cat. He has all the answers." It seems to be enough because she squints, crosses her arms under her breasts (which I do NOT look at) and seems to be putting her thinking cap on.
"I'm just a man who's circumstances went beyond my control. Beyond my control. Beyond my control."
"I need control. We all need control."
She shakes her head. She doesn't understand. And she's getting hotter because now she's sweating through the lower part of her shirt and you can see her naval ring. Or, so I hear.
"I am the modern man who hides behind a mask so no one else can see my true identity."
She's had more than enough. "Ok," she says in exasperation. "Is this some kind of Jesus thing? I ain't got time for this. I have to go to class."
We don't know when she left because we were laughing too hard. And, once again, I'm late for class.
You've got to try doing this. Please let me know the results. Success? Abject failure? Share with us!