| Action Jack ( @ 2008-11-07 23:57:00 |
| Entry tags: | story time |
Bursting at the seams
Whenever my mother turned on the radio, it was to listen to the news. As a result, I grew up listening to none of the music you did (aside from Weird Al Yankovic). My brother had an exquisite taste in hip hop, some of which he passed on to me, but for the most part I was forced to discover my musical tastes in college.
I have a strong sense of individualism, and this translates to a desire to find songs that nobody else is listening to. If everyone's talking about a particular song, it is a turnoff for me, even if I acknowledge that it is a work of quality.
These pursuits give me an air of pride for making my own way and the pleasure of introducing countless people to a wave of awesome tunes, but they have left me painfully ignorant of the world around me. I have mistaken Smashing Pumpkins for The Red Hot Chili Peppers, and I didn't know who Johnny Cash was until a year ago. And I usually can't even tell you anything about my favorite bands, because I find their albums in bargain bins and most of them aren't famous enough to have even a wikipedia page.
I have worked at my current job for a year now. In the game room, there is a machine that blasts a digitized version of an Andean song I enjoy. Take a listen (the version I have is better, but I couldn't find it on the internet):
http://www.imeem.com/timidoprodukktionz
When I first heard this, I was thrilled. It would only be a matter of time before I would get a chance to show that I knew this song. Then all the people who had scoffed at my lack of knowledge, who had judged me for confusing The Cure with The White Stripes, would be put in their place.
But for a year, nobody cared. Every activation of the candy machine mocked my ambitions as the melody faded beneath the noise of zombies getting their heads blown off with 12-gauge shotguns, while my coworkers strolled past in blissful disregard of their imminent comeuppance. I bode my time, clinging to my one bit of truth as I lurked in the shadows of obscurity, waiting for the time to come.
A week ago, it came during an unusually slow shift.
Carlos: Do you know the name of the song the candy machine plays?
(My eye twiches)
Me: Which candy machine are you talking about?
Carlos: Um...
Me: Here, come with me.
(Hasty escort to the game room)
Me: This one?
Carlos: I think so...
Me: Well, that's a pretty old song. The melody's been reappropriated by several cultures, but-
Carlos: I just want to hear it.
Me: (Fighting to contain my well of facts)It should be playing on its own...
Carlos: You got a game card?
Me: Yeah, here.
Carlos: This isn't working.
Me: Oh right, the employee cards don't work on anything that gives prizes.
Carlos: Damn. (Walks away)
Me: (Giving chase) Wait! It's called Llorando se-
Carlos: So, make any good tips tonight?
HOLD STILL SO I CAN BE SMARTER THAN YOU, DAMN IT!!!
Later...
Me: You know, I actually have a few different versions of that song on my computer. If you-
Carlos: What song?
Me: Llor- the candy machine song.
Carlos: Oh, that. What about it?
Me: If you give me your email address, I can send it to you.
Carlos: Nah, I don't want to go to all that trouble.
Me: It'll take fifteen seconds! I know exactly where it is on my computer! I would enjoy the privilege of sharing it with a fellow fan!
Carlos: Don't worry about it.
FUCKIN' A!!! SHIT COCK VULVA!!!
I was content to wallow in my despair, and bitch to my girlfriend about this. But today he pulled a finisher on me...
Carlos: Does anyone know what song that machine plays in the game room?
Me: YES! We had this conversation a week ago!!!
Carlos: "Luck be a lady tonight..."
Me: Huh?
Carlos: You know, that machine where you try to launch the coin at the target?
Me: You... you said the candy machine. I specifically led you to it.
Carlos: Which candy machine?
Me: The one that goes (humming Llorando se Fue).
Carlos: What's THAT?
(...)
Me: Nothing.