Straight Out Of The Eighties... > > > > This will only make sense to those of us who had > the dubious distinction > > of being children of the eighties, or listened to > the music on a regular > > basis. If you were "there", then you will > understand.... > > > > I was working part time in a five and dime. My > boss was Mr. Magee. He > > was six foot four and full of muscles and walked > like an Egyptian, but I > > was happy to be stuck with him. One manic Monday, > while I was busy > > working for the weekend, I overheard him make a > careless whisper. He > > told two of my co-workers, Jack and Diane, that I > gave love a bad name. > > > > Well, I got so emotional, baby. I told him to say > say say what he wants, > > but don't play games with my affection. He told > me it was hard for him > > to say he's sorry and not to worry, to be happy. > Then he blamed it on > > the rain. He was so out of touch. It just took my > breath away. I > > couldn't fight this feeling any longer. I asked > him "What's love got to > > do with it?" He told me to get outta his store > and his dreams and into > > my car. > > > > So I figured I might as well jump. I cut > footloose, went home and called > > my girl, Jenny. (You already know the number) She > was on the other line > > with Amanda. They were talking about Mickey and > how he was so fine. That > > blew my mind! Was she really going out with him? > I told her that I had > > just called to say I love her. She told me she > had been saving all her > > love for me, but now she was looking for a new > love - asta la vista, > > baby. I thought "I can't go for that - no can do! > Bring me a higher > > love!" I called up some of my old west end girls, > hoping that one of > > them would want to get physical all night long > (all night). First I > > called Billie Jean - she told me to beat it. I > called Rosanna - her > > sister Christian blessed the rains down in Africa > and then hung up on > > me. Come on, Eileen! ... no answer. > > > > Nobody told me there'd be days like these! I was > feeling like the owner > > of a lonely heart. Then, out of the blue, my best > friend's girlfriend > > (she used to be mine) Roxanne calls. Yes, the > real Roxanne. She told me > > she still hadn't found what she's looking for and > that she wanted to > > take on me. I said "I thought you were Jessie's > girl." She said "Don't > > you want me? You don't have to put on the red > light - I'm on my own." > > What a feeling! I had the eye of the tiger. Who > was I f-f-f-foolin? > > Roxanne drove me crazy like no one else. She's a > beauty! She blinded me > > with science, and weird science at that. There > was always something > > there to remind me of her and I just knew that > I'd have the time of my > > life. I wasn't about to la-di-da-di. I jumped in > my little red Corvette > > and rocked down to Electric Avenue. I got my mind > set on her. When I got > > to her house (in the middle of her street) I ran. > I rapped on her front > > door and to this rapper's delight, i heard a > voice say "Who can it be > > now?" "Here I am, the one that you love", I > replied. I let my love open > > the door and was immediately lost in her eyes. I > felt like a virgin > > touched for the very first time. She loosened her > blouse and said "Rock > > me Amadeus!" Well, I felt it was my prerogative > to bust a move. I told > > her "I'll tumble for ya!" as I pinned her on the > stairs, hungry like the > > wolf. > > > > Just then I felt an invisible touch on my > shoulder. "Turn around bright > > eyes!" said a familiar voice. As I did, Jessie > hit me with a > > sledgehammer of an uppercut that spun me righ > round like a record. He> > > was hangin' tough and continued to roll with it, > knocking the wind from > > beneath my wings - broken wings by this time. He > rocked me tonight, for > > old time's sake, beating me from head to toe, > until my true colors were > > black and blue and blood was spilling from my > mouth like red, red wine. > > "You don't owe me money for nothing!" he snarled. > At this point I was > > livin' on a prayer. I crawled back to my little > red Corvette and drove > > home thinking about how my tainted love had cut > like a knife - how it > > seems that every rose, truly, has its thorn. No > longer do I want to know > > what love is... Love stinks. > >

Email: thefattraveler@hotmail.com