I dated this guy a while back. We had nothing in common. He was a Republican from Texas, in the oil business, and painfully boring—and, he was in AA. I cannot go a meal without drinking a glass of wine. Unless of course it’s a crappy meal—or a crappy wine. How boring was he? I’d rather have known him when he drank.
By the end of the date, he went for a little tongue down throat action and invited me back to his hotel. There would be no second date! Go directly to jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.
About a week later, he sent me the modern day equivalent of a mix tape—a brand new iPod classic loaded with 40,000 songs. It had every single song from Santana, Dave Matthews, Bruce Springstein, The Beattles, Bob Dylan and a myriad of other artists I had never heard of before. Nice idea for a gift, even if for the most part, it wasn't my type of music.
What I didn’t realize was just how much space 40,000 songs would take up on my computer. I used one of those software programs—the kind that’s supposed to unlock songs and download them onto my iTunes program. I had done this once before (when some guy gave me an iPod Nano as a gift) and it worked brilliantly. This time, I was screwed. I now have 40,000 songs, most of which I don’t want, on my computer, and 98% of them are locked. So, I either go through every song one by one to see if it’s locked or not, or just delete everything from 1/12/11 and hope that in doing so I do not delete some of my own music.
Thanks a million, dude. I guess it’s my fault. I should have never accepted a gift from someone I had no intention of seeing again. At least I didn’t get a virus.