As the song finished playing, she belted out, “Thank God that’s over!”
I had to laugh. Her remark was so like her. “I take it you did not like the music?”
Ever had pretty blue eyes drill holes through you? I swear that’s what hers did to me. “You know damn well I don’t like that type of music.”
To be honest, I knew she didn’t like any type of music other than the few artists she listened to. And I wasn’t sure if artists was the right word. “You don’t like much of anything.”
She gave me this little “Hm!” as she turned her nose, and looked anywhere else.
“No! It’s true! You don’t like much of anything.” I wasn’t really trying to pick a fight. But I didn’t see any way to avoid one.
She punched the station 1 button on the car radio, tuning it back to her radio station. Beyonce’s voice filled the car. I think it was “Single Ladies”. Again. She sang right along with it. “All the single ladies…”
Every hear that saying, “Put up or shut up”? That’s the option I had on this. Sit there, silently, not daring to say a word, or sing along with her.
That’s why I was leaving her.
“You know, you’re boring.” Well, she was.
“I’m not boring!”
“You listen to the same, what, ten songs, over and over again.”
“I do not!”
“You watch the same TV shows every week.”
“I do not!”
“You eat at the same five restaurants every week.”
“No, I don’t!”
“You shop at the same three stores. You never, ever read a book of any kind. You own everything Apple ever made.”
She laughed. “I do what makes me happy!”
It was time for the fight. “You do what makes you safe, and comfortable.”
I knew she’d have no idea what I was trying to say. How do you tell someone they live in a box, and to them, nothing outside that box exists? I punched the “tune” button, and set the radio to a random station again. I almost laughed. The station was playing a Calexico tune. And I knew she’d hate it.
“Hell, they aren’t even singing!”
“They’re singing.” I laughed, spitefully. “You just have too narrow a mind to see it, or hear it.” Oh, hell, you should have seen the look she gave me. “They’re just different. And that scares you.”
I kept driving, and started singing along with the song. “I should’ve stayed way out yonder better off with the scorpions and snakes.” Yeah. I should have.
She huffed and looked out the window. And didn’t say a single word until I pulled up to the curb by her apartment. “Don’t call me anymore,” she declared, spitefully I might add, as she opened the door.
“Don’t worry, darlin’. I won’t. It’d be a waste of time.”
As least the window didn’t shatter when she slammed the door.