I want to start out by saying that I am completely aware that this post is going to ruin me socially. I already know that I am going to lose a lot of Twitter followers, maybe a few Facebook friends, and maybe my chances at ever finding an independently wealthy professional snowboarder sitting all alone at a coffee shop reading dark poetry and dying to marry me. Yes, weirdly that's my idea of a perfect man. I just feel like if I say it out loud for the world to read that maybe it makes me less of freak.
Music just does something to me. I’m not talking like in a cool hipster way. "The lyrics walk into my soul, take the wheel, and awaken my senses to a beautiful universe of dreams" kind of way, I'm talking in a Ja Rule makes me have insanely vivid daydreams kind of way. I've never understood the effect that bad music has on me. It is as if the second I hear Flo Rida crooning through my car stereo system I'm transported to another world where there is no such thing as a bad hair day and everyone whispers, “Who is that fabulous dime piece? “Look at her rocking those jeans! Do you think God designed those specifically for her?" when I walk by. I guess to accurately explain this I’ll have to throw my self-respect aside and give you a song by song description.
"Money to Blow" by Birdman, Lil' Wayne and Drake- In this scenario I have three older sisters and my father is a billionaire. We are going out to eat. For some reason our restaurant of choice is always Charleston's in this fantasy. I recognize if my father was a billionaire we could do a whole lot better than Charleston's, but just go with it. We all arrive in separate Bentley's. First struts in my oldest sister, she is greeted at the door with a glass of champagne and all the employees whisper about how intimidated they are by her. She's really bitchy and rude to everyone. The same thing happens with my next sister. She spits her Double Mint into the host's hand and states that no one had better touch her mink while she enjoys her meal. Then I roll in. The entire staff's faces change from a look of terror to a look of sheer delight. On the same tray that the champagne had been served, they brought me a shot of cheap tequila. As I tossed the shot to the back of my throat the entire staff looked at each other and said something to the effect of "Wow. Katherine is not only super down to earth for drinking cheap liquor when she is so rich, but she is also beautiful, charismatic and full of life. Gosh, she's just like Nicole Ritchie but better."
"Shoop" by Salt N' Peppa- I am wearing all fur. Except not fur pants. That’s super weird. Actually screw it, I'm making fur pants work. Anyway, wearing solid fur, walking really Victoria's Secret super modelish toward 747, a popular Norman bar. I'm smoking a cigarette in one of those holder things but it’s very Victoria Beckam and not so Cruela Deville. There are paparazzi everywhere snapping pictures of me. I know I have a job to do. I waltz into the bar. I don't get carded. I don't have to stand in line. They basically thank me for being there. I walk right up to a small crowd of girls hassling one of my friends. People are all whispering "Oh my god what's she going to do? What's she going to say? How will she regain justice?" I just look at them and say "OUT" and they scurry away as fast as possible. My friend and I embrace lovingly then still find a way to krump for the remainder of the song.
"Before He Cheats" by Carrie Underwood- It’s totally Coyote Ugly. I’m tending bar at a trashy yet lovable honky tonk. I have a bangin' bod but I still eat fried chicken and mashed potatoes every day. Wait, that’s not relevant? Anyway, somehow every single person I have ever been friends with, had a crush on, or have hated me is there on this one night. I'm serving drinks just doing my job when my boss suddenly quiets the room and says "Katherine, you can't hide your talents forever. It's time you sing." into the microphone. Somehow he has a microphone. I act all embarrassed at first but I get up on the bar and belt out the tune like I owned it and let’s just say I owned the room.
"Give It To Me Baby" by Rick James- The setting: A Joe's Crab Shack. Again, like every single person who I've ever looked at is there. (Yeah, I'm a huge attention whore. I think that's become disgustingly clear.) I walk in and I'm instantly greeted by the manager. He tells me that I can't be seated at an overly nautical-themed table until I dance. I act really embarrassed but I really want to eat and I know that this is the only way that will happen. Without missing a beat, they put me up on a table and I perform a perfectly choreographed dance to the 80's classic. It's both hilarious and impressive. I go home with close to 300 Facebook friend requests.
I know that right now you're probably thinking that this is really weird or that I'm "really into myself." Both those things are true but...I mean thats it. They're both true. Beer me.