As for the Battle... The song was Say Something. The contenders were Boyce Avenue and Pentatonix. I'm still undecided with my own vote, but you guys came out strongly in favor of Boyce Avenue. Pentatonix got votes (and strong ones when cast), but it really wasn't even close. Final tally:\
Boyce Avenue: 15
Let's continue on with my Soundtrack story.
The year was 1990. I just graduated college and moved to NYC to pursue a job in publishing. I found a job fairly quickly in the publicity department at St. Martin's Press. Turns out, there was a "hubaloo" in that department that resulted in almost everyone quitting and finding other jobs. I had NO IDEA of that when I went in to interview. I was the first person the new director hired. And I will write more on the job later...
But, I want to talk about "adjusting to life in NYC" in this soundtrack post.
Turns out that I was pretty naive about everything NYC, up to and including job hunting. My friend, Sag, graduated a year ahead of me and had a job in the City. We got an apartment in Queens, and she did her best to teach me the key to survival in this new place. There were a few important lessons I got right away. 1) Don't look around when you're walking in the City. That screams awestruck tourist. 2) Never greet anyone with a pleasant "good morning" or "how are you?" on the street. If you forget yourself and do this (I did), you will scare the crap out of any sane person (saw this firsthand). You will invite conversation from insane people (experienced this for myself), which will then scare the crap out of you. 3) Always zip your backpack from the bottom. If the zippers meet at the top, anyone can just unzip, stick their hand in, and walk away with your stuff. (Never experienced this, because I always remembered this rule!)
It was the stuff Sag didn't tell me that got me in trouble. For instance, while I was still job interviewing, I spent a day in the City. Had about three interviews that day. I was still green at navigating the subway, so I planned my route ahead of time for minimal opportunities of tragedy. Picture this: it was a sunny afternoon. My interviews were done. I was wearing a suit and heels and really just wanted to go home and collapse. A frantic woman approached me with a horrific story of being robbed and not able to get home. There were plenty of tears and she looked panicked sure enough. I felt terrible for her (easily imagining myself as her) and gave her all my money in my purse. That amounted to the trifling sum of $10. However, it wasn't until she walked away that it hit me: I gave her all the money in my purse. I needed that money to buy a subway token to get home. Instead, I walked about thirty blocks to Sag's workplace so she could pay for my subway token back to Queens. By the time I got there, my feet were leaden (and blister-ridden) and I was ready to beg money off a stranger with my own sob story. Sag and her co-worker nearly laughed themselves to death after hearing this tale of woe.
Apparently, there really is a sucker born every minute. That same sucker often becomes hardened and vows not to donate money to strangers ever again. Ergo, there is also a smarter, savvier person born the next minute.
I could tell you dozens of New York City stories. Because, let's face it, I'm one of those people who has to fall into every hole in order to accept there really is a hole there. I'm only giving you one more and then we're moving on in the next post. Jennifer the Second moved in with Sag and I. On the weekends, we'd often go out clubbing or drinking or something. Each one of these occasions always resulted in some sort of epic story. On this weekend night, we were trying hip new places. I think this was a one and done sort of experience. Turns out hip is another term for expensive. At our last stop for the night, the cover charge was something ridiculous, $10, which was a lot back then. The beer was something like $7 a bottle. I couldn't tell you what a mixed drink was, because I knew it was more than I wanted to pay. So, we're standing there trying to decide what to do in this uber-expensive place we paid to get into. Heck, I didn't even like the music. It was all very electronica and not all that danceable, to my way of thinking. So, we're just taking it all in when this guy in white lingerie (yes, women's lingerie) weaved through the crowd blowing a whistle. This happened quite a few times. We ended up not staying too long. We couldn't afford the drinks. We didn't like the music. While the guy with the whistle was mildly entertaining, after the third blow I was pretty well over it. We walked outside and Sag said something like, "Well that was something new and different."
And I said something like, "Yeah, the women were really tall."
She just looked at me and said something like, "You're an idiot."
To which I said, mildly offended, "What???"
"They were men, you dope."
And there you have it. I pretty well spent those two years with my mouth hanging open and chin scraping the sidewalk.
If you're enjoying these posts, feel free to share your own Soundtrack. This isn't a hop. No requirements at all, but a suggestion to do it one song at a time. (If you participated in the hop several years ago, you can still do this. Just post them one song at a time, with the freedom to add more songs if you'd like.) I'll link to all participants at the bottom of each of these posts:
StMcC Presents BATTLE OF THE BANDS
Cherdo on the Flipside
Holli's Hoots and Hollers
THE DOGLADY'S DEN
Mean Who You Are