Thursday, July 29, 2010

Sing out, Louise!

There are times when I realise I come across as a fairly suave individual, with an air of coolness about my person that reduces others to tears of jealousy and an overwhelming desire to emulate. It's both my gift and my curse. I've learnt to deal. However. One social situation in which this does NOT apply, apparantly, is when I'm busted in my car, singing Cher's "Turn Back Time", complete with hand movements and hair flicks, at the absolute top of my lungs by a group of heterosexual males that happened to pull up alongside me whilst we were both stopped at the same set of traffic lights.

Yeah. There's no smooth way to come back from that. Maybe if it was one or the other, horrendously loud OR ridiculously animated? But no. It was a mash-up of the two, and as I've since learnt, my car ISN'T some kind of Cone of Silence, in fact, it seems to have the worlds greatest acoustics, because I 'm pretty sure they heard every word. Every. Single. Word.

It wouldn't have been so bad, had I noticed they were there earlier. As it was, I managed to make it half way through the damn song before I twigged to the fact I was with audience, and from then, it seemed to take another seventeen minutes for the stupid lights to actually change, all the while with me trying to quietly disappear from the face of the planet, with no success.


What can I say? I was born to be on a stage. So long as, in all future experiences, that stage is as far removed from others as possible. Preferably in a soundproof room. With the door shut. And locked. From the outside.

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