You don't know how many times, Judy will pull this number on me...
"And I was like baby, baby, BABAAY NO!"
To which she will casually ask, "Hey! Who sings this song?"
And I, thinking how can she be so obtuse, will reply with, "Justin Bieber you loon!"
"Then keep it that way!" She'll say with the most sinister laugh heard this side of Disney as I go to a corner and die.
She's done it in front of customers before, much to my chagrin, and you'd think with the frequency she does it, I would notice or be ahead of the game. Alas, I'm way too into the song that I forget. Every. Single. Time.
But it's become so second nature that I don't even realize I'm singing anymore. I mean, it's just a natural inclination that if you're working or cleaning, you just need to do something else, like whistle or hum or sing at the top of your lungs.
I guess it also doesn't help that we now listen to my iPod at work too, so I know all the songs! They're memorized in my heart, they live in my soul, so that when my subconscious hears Taylor Swift, I'm going to sing gosh darn it. With all my effort.
I just don't notice I do it anymore. I'll start singing along or trying to hit certain pitches with En Vogue when someone will laugh or say something or I'll actually hear myself and I'll stop and walk away. Which was why I was so surprised that when a customer came up to the register and asked who was singing I looked at Judy with big eyes. "Sing?" I asked, prepared to play it off, though at the same time trying to recall if I was in fact singing.
"Who was singing Taylor Swift?" she prompted cheerfully.
I looked at Judy with warning. You could see the laughter in her face and the immediate reaction. I widened my eyes to ask her not to say anything at all. Then she pointed at me, to which I shook my head and looked away. Act cool. Act cool.
"You sounded really good," the customer said warmly.
I couldn't stop the initial awkward chuckle emitting from me, like I was in a tooth paste commercial or happy about my tampon choice. "Oh," I said, searchingly, nervously. "That's very kind of you to say. You don't have to, but it was really nice of you to say." Erm.
Judy was busy checking her out, smiling like the little traitor she was, and I walked over to get some hangers nearby. "Thanks for ratting me out," I said jokingly, but in the way where I mean it.
Judy and the customer just laughed and laughed.
