Is That Bjork In Your Pocket, Or Are You Just Glad To See Me?
This happened to me this morning:
As a special Friday treat, I stopped by a coffeeshop on the way to work. While I was waiting for my latte, I became aware of music playing. I soon realized that I recognized the singer. "Ahh, how cool. They're playing Bjork," I thought. A lesser-known tune from her Post cd. As I waited, I decided to call Julie at work to see if she wanted me to bring her anything. I pulled out my phone, and it was then that I realized that I was the one playing Bjork. I'd bumped the phone inside my pocket and turned the music player on. I hadn't even realized the music was coming from me, pouring out of my hip.
How many times has this happened to me, and yet I still don't catch on when the music starts? My phone is a little candy bar Nokia. I got it for $16 when I renewed my contract last year. It feels like I'm holding a Nestle's Crunch Bar up to my ear, but I can download music on to it. It's kind of like an Ipod, only better, because it has a speaker that lets me hear the music without wearing earphones. The problem is, when it gets bumped it unlocks and the phone starts pocket dialing, texting, playing music, you name it.
The dude who was foaming my soy milk seemed amused and relieved when he saw me fooling with my phone and realized where the music was coming from. We both had heard the sudden gush of Bjork, and he apparently had wondered about it, but had just sort of shrugged and gone on with his barista routine.
Another time I was out walking around somewhere, at some outdoor hoo-haw, and I heard some old Bob Dylan playing, and I thought, "Cool! They're playing some vintage Bob Dylan!!" Somehow the music always sounds like it's coming from some external speaker, and not from me. And each time, I'm like, "Garsh! I can't believe they're playing that! They're playing an obscure tune that I have in my own collection!"
It's no wonder my American Indian friends call me, "She Who Is Easily Surprised."
As a special Friday treat, I stopped by a coffeeshop on the way to work. While I was waiting for my latte, I became aware of music playing. I soon realized that I recognized the singer. "Ahh, how cool. They're playing Bjork," I thought. A lesser-known tune from her Post cd. As I waited, I decided to call Julie at work to see if she wanted me to bring her anything. I pulled out my phone, and it was then that I realized that I was the one playing Bjork. I'd bumped the phone inside my pocket and turned the music player on. I hadn't even realized the music was coming from me, pouring out of my hip.
How many times has this happened to me, and yet I still don't catch on when the music starts? My phone is a little candy bar Nokia. I got it for $16 when I renewed my contract last year. It feels like I'm holding a Nestle's Crunch Bar up to my ear, but I can download music on to it. It's kind of like an Ipod, only better, because it has a speaker that lets me hear the music without wearing earphones. The problem is, when it gets bumped it unlocks and the phone starts pocket dialing, texting, playing music, you name it.
The dude who was foaming my soy milk seemed amused and relieved when he saw me fooling with my phone and realized where the music was coming from. We both had heard the sudden gush of Bjork, and he apparently had wondered about it, but had just sort of shrugged and gone on with his barista routine.
Another time I was out walking around somewhere, at some outdoor hoo-haw, and I heard some old Bob Dylan playing, and I thought, "Cool! They're playing some vintage Bob Dylan!!" Somehow the music always sounds like it's coming from some external speaker, and not from me. And each time, I'm like, "Garsh! I can't believe they're playing that! They're playing an obscure tune that I have in my own collection!"
It's no wonder my American Indian friends call me, "She Who Is Easily Surprised."
you crack me up, simone. wha?? no burl ives on that phone??? love the indian name. it fits you perfectly! we should all have n.a. names.
ReplyDeletei thought your indian name was "she-who-stands-outside-the-gate-because-she-cannot-figure-out-how-to-open-the-latch"
ReplyDeleteYes, my sister. That is my true Indian name. But my Indian friends, not knowing that, bestowed upon me this auxiliary name.
ReplyDeleteMy sister, I am honored that you remember this name. You are the keeper of my many names.
ReplyDeleteit is my honor, sister, to hold these many names within my heart. i have carved them all into a walking stick that i have named "true dog."
ReplyDelete