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Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Back to My Roots

First of all, I have to admit, I listen to my iPod at an ear-shattering volume; I like my music LOUD.

Secondly, I like my music like I like my friends: Diverse. Hell, my music is my friend. There're my best friends, Tori, Cyndi, the Dixie Chicks, and the Beatles. Then there are the friends I call for when I'm in a certain mood, whether it be to Party, Sulk, Scream, Dance, Cry, or Wallow in Nostalgia.

So it's not uncommon for me to get giggles and looks from people on the bus as they hear the wide array of tunes screaming out from behind my earbuds. Today, I get on the elevator with a coworker, who I am not close to. Now, all of my coworkers know I'm gay, so it's not unreasonable to think they are going to have some preconceived notions as to what the gay boy listens to..you know, some Abba, Madonna, Culture Club, Cher or the like(I'm not saying those buddies aren't on my iPod, because they are).

I used to get a little miffed, however, when people don't think I listen to other stuff. Now I just revel in their confusion. So this girl, let's call her Dumb Blonde, looks at me quite peculiarly as she sees my head gently bobbing to "Free Bird," which I know was loud enough for people 3 floors away to hear. Ok, I'm a southern boy, and Skynard, like sweet tea and fried chicken, is a guilty pleasure for me.

I caught dumb blonde staring with a strange grin out of the corner of my eye and so I turned it up, smiled, and said "have a good day" as I stepped off of the elevator at my floor. I just know she's gonna tell the boys upstairs about that crazy guy downstairs.

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At 7/09/2008 2:34 PM, Blogger honeykbee's whiny, bitch-ass comment is...

Something tells me the guys upstairs probably take everything she says with a large amount of salt.


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