As I walk into the bathroom, that meandering music that was playing in the store suddenly is louder. It's a duet - a "country" ballad (it's really just a pop tune with lap steel guitar and two singers who have a southern twang in their voices) being sung by a male and female. So I unzip as I start concentrating on how bad this song is and how cheezy the lyrics are. Damn...I really have to pee now. Ok Armen, relax dude.
But I can't help concentrating EVEN HARDER on ignoring this horrible music. My god! Someone actually advanced money to record this tune!! It won't stop playing. I have to pee so badly...is this song going to end???? I can't believe that a record company fronted over $90,000 to a radio promoter to get this thing on the air! Ohhh I can't pee now!!!! This sucks!! Those poor pierced and tattooed slacker bastards that work at Borders actually have to listen to the same tune inside their stores every day because the label is paying $5000 a month for in-store play.
Now I feel like an idiot standing here and not being able to pee! This song is so bad that I'm screwing myself out of one of the great sensations of relief that a human being can feel. Hundreds of dollars in royalties are pouring in to the songwriters and the label this very second as I stand here - pathetic, my bladder paralyzed by the inane lyrics. THIS BLOWS! Oh god...someone get me a catheter!!
I'm trapped in here with this sappy music, and I can't run out of the bathroom because I have to "go" so badly. Ugh! What a frigin' dilemma.
However, in the end, everything came out okay.