Shawty I could take you there!

I sat quietly in the driver’s seat of the vehicle. Tuan (twinky) and Eric were in the car with me. There was slow music plugged into a video system without any video screen, so basically we were listening to a movie that seemed to have a soundtrack that resembled solely classical music. I happened to glance out the window and saw a girl walking up to the side of the car and requests that we play some faster music. I replied, “Sure, what do you want to hear?” Beethoven beat the piano in the background. “Take you there.” “OK! I have that song on my iPod.” Excited, I unplugged the nonexistent movie and plugged in my iPod instead. But no matter how hard I tried I could not change the song. The girl then proceeded to threaten me: “If you don’t find the song I will cut you” grabbing my wrist in the midst of her sentence. Somehow I was just brainwashed into believing that her actions were justified and did not fight the blade as it scraped against my skin, carving out the first letter: “P”.

I was searching for the song as the lyrics began to roll quietly off my tongue unintentionally, not paying any attention to the blood trickling down my left forearm or the girl responsible. “We can go to the tropics, sip Pina Coladas, Shawty I could take you there. Or we can go to the slums where killers get hung, Shawty I could take you there!”

I scrolled up and down on the itouch eventually seeing the title but instead of clicking on it like a normal person would, my thumb instead pushed down on the song above it. The wrong song. I clicked back, attempting to try again but with no luck. The second letter formed a little farther away from the first, but behind it almost as if she was spelling something backwards. Twinky and Eric just gazed intently at me, unable to help.

All the sudden I had this strong urge to believe that the song was by Luke Bryan when in reality it was sung by Sean Kingston. I was so set on Luke Bryan being the artist that when I found his name and clicked it to reveal the songs he wrote, overcoming the difficulty of the off centered touch that I had acquired since beginning and did not find the title of the song, I simply clicked the home button and declared myself a failure. “Sorry, I guess I actually don’t have that song” I whispered to the girl outside the door but she was already gone. I glanced at my arm and staring back at me were the words: “MACHO P” in very clear, very large letters. I looked up, confused, then back at the arm. That’s when the pain hit me head on. I tried to hold it in but a single tear drop rolled off the side of my cheek signaling to the boys that I was incapable of driving any farther. Regrettably I took my place in the backseat…and woke up.