Have you ever listened to a song so much that it became good? I don’t mean to imply that the song wasn’t good all along. Maybe it was just that you felt lukewarm about it. But there was something there, a je ne sais quoi that made you want to give it a second chance.
Maybe even this second chance left you tepid. Maybe you didn’t think about the song for months. But one day, over a plate of seafood pasta at a local bar and grill, the music returned to you, muffled, from the restaurant’s sound system. You thought you were merely enjoying some succulent scallops and fettuccine, but at work all around you were the song’s subtle tendrils of awesome, creeping into your brain between strained conversation, awakening within you a passion that must have lain dormant in your soul until this moment.
The next thing you know, you’re in your car wondering exactly how many times you can listen to Kelly Clarkson’s I Do Not Hook Up on repeat before your brain physically shuts down. And it’s crucial to know, because you will definitely be playing the song on repeat that number of times minus one.