Still Awful and Fear-Inspiring, Yet Fun and Perky

The highlight of my day was undoubtedly the moment my iPod shuffled to The Macarena by Los del Rio during the bus ride home.  I could barely contain my excitement as I fumbled with the volume roller to pump that baby up FULL BLAST.  Little did I know that as I amplified the song, a faint leak of obnoxious dance tempo had penetrated the listening realm of the stinking, shabby, possibly homeless Hispanic woman sitting next to me.  I could feel her stare and noticed peripherally that her neck was craned and her face turned in my general direction.  I met her stare and cracked an uneasy smile -  and then the chorus hit me.

Heeeeeey Mac-arena!  Ayyy!   and then, something in Spanish.  Repeat, repeat.

I saw the woman's nostrils flare.  She got up and moved to a seat in the back...because I had inadvertently uttered the lyrics charging through my brain.  Including the Spanish part.  I don't know the Spanish part.  And I don't speak Spanish.  But I still tried to sing it, and I managed to cause a bum so much anxiety that she was all like, I NEED TO GET AWAY FROM YOU, CRAZY PERSON.

God knows what I actually said in Spanish, or if it was Spanish at all.  It might have been devil speak.  At any rate, the woman continued to stare at me for the next ten minutes.

On a vaguely related note, this event reminds me of the instant during 6th grade summer camp when the entire girls' cabin realized that one of the male camp counselors, named Oliver, could sing The Macarena in its entirety.  Including the Spanish part.  And since I grew up in Erie, PA, dear GOD was this ever momentous.  NOBODY speaks Spanish!  Holy fuck!  Sing it again, Oliver!  DO IT, or I will shoot you with this arrow; as you've just taught me the proper techniques of archery.  And might I remind you, I just got 5 bulls-eyes out of 7 shots.  IT IS MACARENA TIME, ONCE AGAIN.  HAHAHA!

I'm only speculating, but I may have somehow conveyed the same sense of wild-eyed urgency today as I insisted, "Parala pa lady elegria Macarena" or whatever, to that woman on the bus.  But at least I was not in possession of any obvious form of weaponry, or making flagrant threats for that matter.  I hate to think that my personal killing-spree theme song could one day be The Macarena.