Wednesday, July 10, 2013

A Little More Time On You by N’Sync

(In which I shameless display my weirdness once again.)


There are songs that really mean us no harm. They are oftentimes beautiful, catchy, easy to sing and is popularized by aesthetically and vocally-blessed individuals. But there are ones that play my heartstrings really strangely despite their innocuousness. The latest addition to this bizarre music categorization is not even a latest song – it’s from a 90s boy band!

My ears took its first auditory glimpse (if there is even such a thing) of this smooth love song in the unlikeliest of places – the gym. You see, it’s a really liberal gym where you’re allowed to have your music player plugged to the speaker so everybody gets to experience your personal selection of workout songs. Apparently, the person whose iPhone was the featured player of the night has a totally different way of motivating himself to lift weights. 

After the first verse and the chorus I was all but revved up to do my next routine. I slumped on the nearest seat and looked up at the owner of the doggone iPhone; a muscular, fair-skinned lad who could immediately pass as a dead ringer for Paolo Ballesteros.

“Who sang that?” I asked. He looked at me and blinked. I often wonder why he always seemed to move in slow motion.

“Guess,” was all he replied. 

“I can’t guess.”

“Listen well. It’s easy.” For a moment I was convinced the weirdness of that conversation must have something to do with him being in slow-mo. After realizing that I’m not really born to be the next Madame Auring, he said “Can’t you really recognize that voice? It’s Justine Timberlake’s. It’s N’Sync.”

“Oh,” was all I could say. I myself couldn’t believe I didn’t recognize them. But I wasn’t born to be the next pop music genius either so I forgave myself. To make up for the initially incompetent reply, I inhaled deeply and put on my most charming Thinker expression.

“I think the song was cool. But there’s something in it that makes me not really like it,” I said.

“Yeah, that’s not their best song for me,” the local celebrity look-alike responded.

“Let me guess. Is it I Drive Myself Crazy?”

He flashed his signature grin and I thought: Don’t tell me this emotional bunch of muscles actually have that song on this playlist too!

So I moved back to my semi-faux philosophical self and continued to let out a philosophical brain fart.

“Sure it makes someone feel special. What with the lengthy title and all. But don’t you think you really have to consciously suspend disbelief since it defies the universally-accepted proposition that all men are created equal?”

When he looked at me quizzically like I’m the strangest thing since KFC Cheesetop burger, I knew my statement's fate was sealed. I chose my finale.

“Forget it.”