Gotta Sing!

There are some days when you take a ride that appears to be completely and utterly uninteresting. You are riding along, and you are resting quietly. Your head starts to slowly relax; your breathing steadies, and you feel yourself drifting off to sleep. The driver appears to be cautious, so you feel relatively confident that you can sleep without too much worry.

It's always those rides that end up surprising you the most.

I rode in with 2 men. I was sitting in the front seat because the bubbly, optimistic little man behind me snagged the back seat, but not before opening my door for me and calling me Ma'am. He greeted our driver with great enthusiasm, and off we went. Our driver was listening to a local radio station's morning talk show at a respectable volume. Everything was smooth as molasses, and I was really starting to settle into a stress-free morning commute, for a change.

I was half listening to the talk show host as the show returned from commercial. He was talking over an old song that I vaguely remembered but wasn't really paying attention to. I started to tune his abrasive voice out and slip into a temporary coma, when BAM--in a loud, booming, entirely inappropriate voice that broke the silence and stability of the car, Mr. Backseat Bubbles began singing along to the song I hadn't really realized was still playing.

"THROUGH THE FIRE....TO THE LIMIT.....TO THE WALL...."

He hit a falsetto that I didn't know any man could really hit, but I had mad respect for his skills.

The driver and I were startled, and I just busted out laughing. This of course encouraged our enthusiastic Chaka Khan wannabe to sing even more, and he went through the song until the DJ turned it off and continued his conversation.

Then he settled down and went to sleep.

I guess when you gotta sing, you gotta sing.