Yesterday, I was in the grocery store, and I passed by a young man who had shaped sideburns that were...how should I say...reminiscent of the '70s in a way that isn't exactly decent. In other words, there was a nearly audible soundtrack that followed him as he pushed his cart down the aisle, and I desperately wanted to burst forth with a "wakka wakka boom chicka boom" as per the infamous Axe commercial. If I had been a braver person, and one able to refrain from laughing hysterically (how many takes do you think they had to do for that commercial?), I might have done so. Because, seriously, one should not be allowed to have bad '70s porn sideburns and walk the streets without hearing a few "wakka wakka wows."
As it was, I bit my lip (hard), fought back the tears in my eyes, turned my laughter into a cough, and went off in search of the sauerkraut.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
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3 comments:
I'm a firm believer that everything and everyone should come with its own soundtrack. When I feel the need to strut -- when I'm overly impressed with myself or have just done something superbad or just need to cut a swaggering swath through a crowd of people that would otherwise intimidate me -- I always run the Chili Palmer music from Get Shorty through my head as I go. I'm talking about that jazzy, bass-popping theme that plays as Travolta -- who has simply never been cooler than as Chili Palmer --ascends the stairs to confront Bear, the stuntman-turned-bodyguard (and played by an enormous and bearded pre-Sopranos James Gandolfini). Travolta wore such a look of supreme confidence on his face in that scene, carried that vibe in every move his body made, in fact, that just thinking about the music playing in the background inflates me to many more times my Actual Impressiveness when it's time to strut.
At least, in my head it does. Which is all that matters.
The recent outbreak of eighties fashion has the same effect on me. I've been having to stifle giggles for months now every time I see some girl in leggings, miniskirt and oversized sweater. All they're missing is the legwarmers and the headband.
You should have made the porn music at that guy. It was begging to be done.
Cassandra - Yeah, of course, now I wish I'd done it. It was one of those, "this has the potential to be really hilarious or really humiliating moments." I frequently don't know which to choose in situations like that, especially when I'm alone.
Wender - Oh, definitely - my empowering strut music is "Urgent" by Foreigner, which is probably going to prove to be a really embarrassing admission, but oh well. Haters can bite me.
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