Let me first start off by saying I love my new truck. Yet, this blog entry isn’t about that, nor is it some sort of prideful exercise or attempt to show it off. Rather, this blog entry concerns something rather embarrassing that happened to me after my purchase of my vehicle. This embarrassment wasn’t akin to your pants falling down in public or anything, but there was certainly an oppressive air of awkward claustrophobia that accompanied one particular stage of my whole post-purchase phase of my new means of conveyance.
Usually, I am an outgoing person almost to a fault, in that as long as it entertains I don’t mind it being at my expense. This means the occasional and willful self-embarrassment in public. In addition, for some reason, perhaps related to my self-depreciating usual form of humor, I find it entertaining to the self to make others embarrassed, as long as there is some joy found in it. For there is that embarrassment which one encounters that has an offensive air, and there is that which one can shrug off and often laugh at. Even in the moment of occurrence.
For this whole narrative to make the kind of sense I intend, I must share a couple more things about myself. First, the reader should be aware that I used to be a DJ. Alas, not one of those fancy club DJ’s with an entourage, cases of records, and turntables. No, quite the opposite. I was a DJ for dances, parties, weddings and the like. This put me in the same category as the DJ’s for high school proms and whatnot. This being the case, it should be apparent, if one knows the industry, that I have a wide, wide selection of music. To emphasize this point, a high school dance, a New Year’s Eve party and a wedding are obviously going to have a completely different music itinerary. So, I had music from every genre, every era, and every individual categorization you can think of.
In addition, before I get to the point, I am extremely lazy. Thus, I uploaded much of the music from my DJ library to my own personal library, not by choosing selectively, but by utilizing a means of the select-all and cut-and-paste method, which every savvy computer user is familiar with. I ended up with some personally undesirable music on my iPod and to again emphasize my laziness, I haven’t actually deleted songs one by one, but have managed to survive by simply skipping forward when a horrid song starts to play.
Of course, I do hear the occasional, “What in the world are you listening to?” However, if one were to take these incidences and conceptually accumulate them into a singularity, they would hardly be of any consequence. Thus, my skip forward method has served me well and I am able to, for the most part, avoid any charges from others implying that I am a huge Lawrence Welk fan. Yet, this might be the time I rethink my regular iPod browsing methods.
With that tangent out of the way, we will revert back to my truck purchase. I purchased a beautiful, brand new, 2013 Nissan Frontier SL 4x4 with all the fixins. Buying a new car was something I have never experienced before and it both made me want to jump for joy and projectile vomit. I don’t mind telling you reader that the mixture of nerves and excitement was quite a tremendous experience. However, right after I bought it I realized, because of the vast amount of technology present in the vehicle, the only thing I knew how to do was drive it. I couldn’t even figure out the windshield wipers if I wanted to. So it was decided that I would in fact make an appointment for the next day to come back in and have everything explained to me.
Now, when it comes to stereos and computers and such, like most guys, I consider myself quite the technology able guy. With exploration and trial and error anyway. However, I will admit to look under the hood of a car, I might as well be doing brain surgery. I am clueless (My girlfriend helps me out. She is like Mona Lisa Vito, Marisa Tomei’s character in, “My Cousin Vinny.”). At any rate, we scheduled an appointment to have all the technology explained, and have it synced up with my cell, texting, phone calls, navigation, address book and all that noise.
I had always heard horror stories about car salesman and I am sure it is justified, but my experience was a good one and I was helped out by a great attentive salesman by the name of William. I pulled up to the dealership and William dashed outside to greet me and we basically got started right away with trying to sync up all my personal technology, iPad, iPod, cell, (Samsung Galaxy! Droid sucks! Just sayin’.) and Bluetooth. Well, syncing turned out to take a couple tries and while we were working on this he was going through the stereo functions from XM radio, to my auxiliary or my iPod.
We were trying to make a phone call with my truck and call, of course, my mother whom William had met. As we were trying to figure it out my music, which was on random, to my horror started playing, “The Waitresses.,” and their hit from 1982, “I Know What Boys Like.” Perhaps some more explanation is needed. When DJing, specifically weddings, there are songs which are played for both parties of men and women which are usually chosen by the bride and groom prior to the wedding. Thus, this song is occasionally played. Yet, here it was, with me and poor salesman William, sitting in my truck, trying to make a phone call, with this awkwardness being spewed by my stereo and iPod. A horrible situation. Horrible.
Finally, we got the phone to work and I was not embarrassed in that pleasant fun kind of way, but seriously turned red and wanted to instantly throw my iPod out the window (which would have been inappropriate it being a present from my girlfriend). My mother luckily picked up the call on her new Kia Soul and William began by saying it was a test to see if my truck and Bluetooth were paired correctly, in order to make the call. Of course it was in the affirmative, and I quickly interjected.
I told her that while we were attempting to call the song of infamy had come on and made things extremely awkward, which she of course got a kick out of. I told her to confirm the fact that I had been a DJ and that much of my music was random in nature. She confirmed this, much to my delight. I was nervous she would’ve maybe used the opportunity to take out enact some revenge against my teenage disobedience and made me look like a moron more than I already was. It occurred to me she could simply do so by asking me what I was talking about and that I was never in such a profession. However, all things confirmed, to my vast relief William got quite the chuckle out of it. So much so I don’t think I can say that he didn’t notice the song or anything. It was an awkward moment for all.
Thus, the moral is that one should really go through their collection more often, for if you have something embarrassing anywhere on your music library, or collections or libraries in general, it’s just bound to come up at the most inopportune and blush-enticing moments.
