Thursday, October 8, 2009

The New Trilemma

Beknownst to many, I dread the idea of going to a karaoke bar. Unbeknownst to many, I have regular covert karaoke sessions on my commute to work. I drive an SUV with no tint on the windows, which means I'm afforded about as much cover as a fishbowl. Moreover, I possess none of the externally obvious signs that would indicate that I deserve to be rocking out like it's nobody's business (e.g. I don't care what you think musician outfit, “cool” ethnicity, etc.). Therefore I must daily find a way to perform my latest hits without the hundreds of people I see in traffic noticing.

So I improvise. At the stop light, if I pull up in between the two cars in the next lane over, neither of them can really tell what I'm doing. Rock on my friend. If I can't hit one of those sweet spots between cars, I might just do every other line ...wishin they was dancin a jig... ciga-cigar right from Cuba-Cu-ba ... They might think they saw something, do a double take, but looking over they see I'm just another regular commuter. They can't prove a thing.

But the reality is, at some point, somebody notices. Either I go too big (hand gesturing and long, high notes are sure ways to go too big) or they're just too observant and bang. Busted. Then I feel obligated to either slow down or start speeding until I know I've put some distance in between me and that over-observant commuter.

Then things changed. I purchased a discounted, middle of the road bluetooth headset for my cell phone. What's that have to do with it, you might ask? Well, before, if anyone caught me, they'd have two easy choices in regard to my virtuoso renditions: Either that guy is crazy or I just caught him singing to himself in the middle of traffic. Neither of these options is particularly appealing.

But now--now they look over, catch me getting my groove on, but they also see the bluetooth headset and they're not so sure anymore. The simple dilemma is now, yes that's right, a trilemma. Sure, they have good odds they caught me doing something embarrassing, but there's that unsettling chance that I'm actually talking to someone. Ooh, not so sure of yourself anymore, are you Mr. Over-observant fellow commuter? I might be raving mad, I might have the entire corpus of Enrique Iglesias music memorized (no really, I don't). But you'll never know, because I might just be ordering take out after a long day at the office.

And just like that, the hits just keep on coming. Gettin' jiggy wit it, na-na-na-na-na-na-na...