So this happened. Another installment of humbling posts in the “Crack Yourself Up” series. (Want to see the first post? Here you go.)
Ed Sheeran’s “Shivers” recently rendered me wholly and entirely helpless to the beat…but maybe not at the most convenient time/place.
I arrived early for my Covid booster shot and snagged a primo parking spot directly in front of the doctor’s office. I did not know the tinted, expansive picture window by the entrance – directly across from my spot – nearly put me INTO the waiting room. Oy. All I saw was a shaded window – no peeps, no faces. Looked like privacy, I guess. Plus, there were no cars on either side of me.
Are you like me? I’m a little reserved with my ‘car grooving’ if I’m at a stop light with cars around me. My moves are more contained – less full-body exuberance – just toe tapping and finger drumming on the steering wheel No shoulder rolls and head banging. No. No one should get the observable intel that I’m actually loopy. Keep ‘em guessing I say.
Because I had time to kill, my buddy Ed – you know, everyone’s favorite Ginger – joined me in the car via Sirius XM. Awesome, I thought. Time to chill and bounce before I need to get poked with the I-know-I-need-it but-don’t-want-to-do-it Covid shot.
I don’t know what the run time is for “Shivers” but I thoroughly enjoyed myself from start to finish. Nothing like an early morning jam to get the blood flowing and amp up the endorphins. Works for me every time, but only if I let go and let the music, literally, move me. So satisfying.
When the song ended, I pulled down the mirror in the car visor, put on my mask and adjusted the wild bedhead I created. Isn’t it too early in the season for me to have static cling in my hair, I thought? Still, I smoothed it down, trying to settle into looking presentable. Ish.
Why did I bother? You know what’s coming, don’t you? When I walked in, the front desk staff and two other patients greeted me with cheers and applause. I turned and did that thing – the glance over the shoulder – to see who they were addressing with laughs and clapping. Surely not me…but there was no one behind me. And then I heard it. Sirius XM was the piped-in music of choice in the waiting room. As I approached the desk, smiling but still unsure about the odd welcome I received, the sweet twelve-year old looking receptionist just said, “We like Ed, too.”
Does this bit of sharing need a moral? I don’t think so, but if I were to summon one up, I suppose I’d say this: Car Dance if You Want To. Just Do It.
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