I walked the campus sidewalks with Mr. JT's "Sexyback" playing in my head. Was I strutting to the tune of my glorious pink iPod mini as I headed to class?
No, I was walking in front of Mr. Headphone-pants, blaring his music for all the world to hear. Good thing the song was one of my new favorites, or else I would have gave him the patented "NotCharlotte look."
This song not only bleated the rhythm of my footsteps on the way to my German class, but it also got me thinking. This boy was sounding his mating call. His swagger to the beat of his 60GB stick of gum along with his frat boy style and just from the beach tan made for quite a spectacle. This boy had his own soundtrack!
I slowed down to "check my bag" and then followed along behind him to watch the girls react to this warm-blooded jukebox. Short, skinny blondes adorned with Greek letters paused from the intense studying of their Pink Razrs as he passed. I swear that behind their Christian Diors their eyes dilated, their jaws stopped, mid-Orbit circulation.
What made this boy so appealing? His song, his strut, his popped collar?
Who knows, but even the manlier men were getting out of his way. "Sexyback" turned into some undecipherable jungle beat and he went into the Science & Technology building, after giving his reflection a knowing smile. When the door he slid into closed, the girls continued chewing their gum in waitress style and continued tapping their electronic morse code messages and "like, whatever"-ing their way to Dance class.
And with that, NotCharlotte is ready for her senior year of college. Good Riddance.