American Idol Rejects flock to Media Wave
(original date: 12/23/05)
The other day I was confronted with one of those quintessential awkward moments that defines what I think is so funny about serious people, one of those every day Seinfeldesque, if you will, kind of moments of that makes you absolutely question what goes on in someone's head.
I was helping a middle aged woman and her son who was picking out video games to rent. I wasn't paying much attention to her; she probably wanted my shit or something because she hung around my register for a good amount of time while her son was searching for just the right video game that would allow him to experience sex and violence all in one , a quest that took about as much as was necessary for his mom to annoy me to my very core, right down to the back of my balllls.
As she's standing there, awkwardly occupying the space in front of me for no reason, she starts to sing. And I do mean that exactly. Not hum, not whistle, not mumble a few lines of a song she heard on the radio, but SING...
Now, what is so universal about this behavior is that she is one of those people who has a semi-decent voice but is excessively confident about her vocal talents. Because she can barely carry a note to untrained ears, she honestly thinks she is treating all around her to her musical gift. We all know people like this who put in that extra effort to blatantly making their voice the center of whatever environment they're in, to make their voice sound gooder than the average singing-in-the-shower voice when singing a little random song that's rattling around their brain, thereby making the song sound FUCKING RIDICULOUS.
To people with good voices, or even semi-good voices: No one but you is comfortable with you making a scene of your own voice, especially in completely random times and places, completely out of nowhere, while pretending not to notice that you're trying to belt out a mini opera while people are shopping or simply minding their own. Stand outside your own head for a minute, and you won't like what you hear.
The other day I was confronted with one of those quintessential awkward moments that defines what I think is so funny about serious people, one of those every day Seinfeldesque, if you will, kind of moments of that makes you absolutely question what goes on in someone's head.
I was helping a middle aged woman and her son who was picking out video games to rent. I wasn't paying much attention to her; she probably wanted my shit or something because she hung around my register for a good amount of time while her son was searching for just the right video game that would allow him to experience sex and violence all in one , a quest that took about as much as was necessary for his mom to annoy me to my very core, right down to the back of my balllls.
As she's standing there, awkwardly occupying the space in front of me for no reason, she starts to sing. And I do mean that exactly. Not hum, not whistle, not mumble a few lines of a song she heard on the radio, but SING...
Now, what is so universal about this behavior is that she is one of those people who has a semi-decent voice but is excessively confident about her vocal talents. Because she can barely carry a note to untrained ears, she honestly thinks she is treating all around her to her musical gift. We all know people like this who put in that extra effort to blatantly making their voice the center of whatever environment they're in, to make their voice sound gooder than the average singing-in-the-shower voice when singing a little random song that's rattling around their brain, thereby making the song sound FUCKING RIDICULOUS.
To people with good voices, or even semi-good voices: No one but you is comfortable with you making a scene of your own voice, especially in completely random times and places, completely out of nowhere, while pretending not to notice that you're trying to belt out a mini opera while people are shopping or simply minding their own. Stand outside your own head for a minute, and you won't like what you hear.
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