Don’t expect to hear this important travel alert on the current State Department Travel Warnings.
This is exactly why you come to Sand Dollar Adventures, isn’t it.?
What brought this topic to mind was a recent trip to the gym where I decided to wear my antique iPod (you know the original model with the player piano perforated paper roll).
While I was listening to a particularly pulsating piece of music, I thought I caught myself singing out loud and glanced around to see if anyone was giving me the stink eye.
Nope, just the typical staring at the old hairy guy in short- shorts, while they wonder if I just happened to wander in off the street.
But the close call of musical mayhem brought back an ugly incident about, well, I ain’t telling you how many years ago, because then you will start making fun and questioning whether I was listening to the 1812 Overture in the year for which it was named.
Anyway…let’s just say, MANY years ago I lived on the second story in an apartment complex across from a local college.
Directly downstairs lived a very physically attractive coed–translation: being a single male in my mid-20’s, someone who I fantasized about occasionally (“occasionally” meaning at all times of the day and night).
So one particular summer day, I had the sliding glass door wide open while I was wearing headphones and listening to something that just screamed out to be sung along with, but unfortunately involved actual screaming.
First, by me, in what was supposed to be singing;
And second, by her, as she attempted to get my attention to tell me to shut the #@(% up.
This started with her standing outside on her patio and yelling up at my open sliding door;
Which lead to her going back inside and pounding on her ceiling (thusly my floor) with a broom handle –which she surely by that point would have liked to stick somewhere else in order to get my attention;
And finally, I heard some pounding on my apartment door, and when I turned the music down and opened the door, I found my shapely neighbor in what appeared to be a somewhat aroused condition with her skin glistening with beads of perspiration, which I took for advanced stages of attraction.
So, I did what any warm-blooded, one-track mind male would do:
I tipped my head down just a bit, sucked in my gut, thrust my pelvis just slightly, and gave her a come-hither glance that I was pretty sure was guaranteed to lead to a fun-filled, fantasy-inspired night of physical frivolousity.
Unfortunately, with my poor powers of observation, I mistook agitation for arousal and attraction.
She was pissed.
What brought back this grim tale of my very distant past was the gym incident with my iPod.
I got to thinking how many people travel around, listening to their iPod while yelling loudly as an attempt at singing but totally out of key.
And unfortunately, just listening to loud music on an iPod can sometimes lead to terrible consequences, including a run-in, or more accurately, a run-over by a train.
One quote in a particularly sad story kind of sums it up,
“It might not kill you to take off the headphones and engage your surroundings once in awhile.”
That, and maybe it won’t signal the demise of your love life.
So–be honest–what embarrassing situations has your iPod gotten you into?