Sometimes even the best laid plans…
I was determined that I would not be late, but the subway train was not to be governed by my determination.
As five minutes became ten and ten became twenty, everyone’s angst was exposed. Then, as if we weren’t all stressed out enough, this obnoxious old koot decides to set up shop. He pulls out his amp, plugs in his guitar and starts singing My Girl at the top of his lungs. Honestly, he didn’t have such a bad voice and the distraction helped to take the focus off where we were all supposed to be 10 minutes ago.
Suddenly, as he gets to the part in the song that goes:
What could make me feel this way?”
He turns and looks right at me and says:
“The girl with the big curly hair and big sunglasses — My giiiirrrrllll!”
Now eeryone is looking right at me as I try and evaporate into my Jane magazine.
“Talkin’ bout the girl right over there with the dark glasses — MY GIRL! Wooooo. Yeah.”
Now everyone is not only looking but they are all laughing as well and the two girls standing next to me are more embarassed for me than I am for myself.
I decide that the best course of action would be to just go with the flow, you know ’cause –
“What you resist will persist”?
So I look him dead in the eyes through my dark shades and I force a laugh at my own expense.
Then, oh yes, it does ges worse, he challenges everyone on the platform that if anyone can guess who made his next song, he’ll give me three dollars and a kiss — but not just any old kiss — a kiss on the lips.
As he grabs three dirty little scrunched up dollars out of his pocket (as if to prove that he means business) he sets his challenge in motion:
I’ve been really tryin’, baby
Tryin’ to hold back this feeling for so long
And if you feel like I feel, baby
Then, c’mon, oh, c’mon
Let’s get it on
Ah, baby, let’s get it on
Let’s love, baby
Let’s get it on, sugar
Let’s get it on
“Al Green!” someone shouts.
“Al Green?!!!” some guy shouts back. “Who the f–k just said ‘Al Green’?!”
“Marvin Gaye!” someone correctly answers and with that, this singing lunatic, lays down his guitar and starts toward me.
“Is this still funny?” I wonder, “Are we still having ‘fun’?”
Thankfully, the look that I shot him through my BIG sunglasses was serious enough to stop him dead in his tracks and just as the train pulls in.
As I dropped some money in his hat I worried about whether or not any of this could count as my fifteen minutes of fame…
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