Our first encounter was on Spain's Costa Del Sol. Somehow you managed to slither your sticky fingers into my backpack, dodging the watchful guard of my trustworthy friends and jetting off into the Valencia sunset with my cherished Shuffle (not to mention half my CD collection, as well as my wallet and, oh yeah, my identity).
Our paths crossed again on a dirtroad in rural Thailand. In a remarkable display of sneakiness, you managed to snatch up my Nano with the flick of a hand (and the agility of a mountain lion), your identity concealed by the cloud of dirt that ensued from my very minor moped accident. Later that evening I heard the familiar sound of Mary J. Blige's 'Be Happy' emanating from somewhere within the Thai jungle, and I twitched with anger. (I know that was you.)
And now I find myself in Toronto, mourning the loss of yet another Nano. My ears are beginning to miss the comfort of headphones. My finger tips long to tap to the kicked back rhythm of Billie Holiday remixes, or Nina Simone's House of the Rising Sun (Have you had a chance to listen to that one yet? It's on my playlist, right after 'Out of My Head' by Fastball)
You have now joined the ranks of the lowest form of vermin on the planet, IPOD thief. Congrats.
God, I hate you
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