iPunked

I was making my way into the office one recent weekday morning, my iPod on random, driver's side window down to enjoy the cool morning breeze, caffeine flowing, bodies disposed of, all was well. Then, as I was transitioning from one freeway to another via a semi-circular on-ramp, traffic slowed to a slow awkward crawl (picture a toddler with a bad wheel.)

The slowdown was due to the side of the road cleaning activities of some orange-clad inmates, who regarded each car that passed them with a scowl that looked like contempt or low-level carbon monoxide poisoning. Either way, we drivers viewed them like zoo exhibits, smiling and pointing, but careful to not feed them. As my turn came to gawk at the prison primates my iPod punked me in a way Aston Kutcher could only dream... Oh L'amour by Erasure...

Awesome. I could have rolled up my window a la Office Space. I could have dove to hit next on the iPod (which I felt would have brought up the other 80's skeleton's in my iCloset, Mr. Ric Roll himself- Ric Astley). I did neither. I let my rainbow song play and smiled at the one prisoner of love who I assume was giving me the 'nice song' gaze and not the 'let's go get a smoothie and see where the day takes us' gaze. Six hours or three minutes and seven seconds later, as I made it around the corner, the song ended and on came Living After Midnight by Judas Priest... I was one super gay song away from being at least a closeted homosexual in the eyes of America's Least Wanted.

- te