Music, Seduction and Be-A-Dick Moments

I can be a dick.  It’s true.  Not only is it true but I even enjoy it.  About a month ago I had a “Be a Dick” moment.

Here’s the set-up.  

It is a Sunday night, and I’m hanging out with friends at McAulliffe’s Pub after trivia.  The bar has just the right amount of people.  There is the buzz of conversations, but not so much that it makes it hard to have a conversation.  The music is good and fun, if overly familiar.  “Can’t Get Enough of Your Love, Babe”, begins to play, chair-dancing ensues.

“Aw yeah, this is the music you play for the ladies” Okay, so maybe no one said those exact words, I don’t hang out with douche-bags, but that was the general gist of the conversation.  I like Barry, nobody really hates Barry White, but I had to say “No”.

“You wouldn’t put on a little Barry White?”

My next “no” was less polite and more emphatic.

“Why not?”

This is the question that most likely leads to a “Be-A-Dick” moment.

“That shit’s for amateurs”

The conversation vacillated between disbelief and goading, one of the women even chimed in that it’s nice to hear Barry White and know you’re being wooed.  Since no Be-A-Dick moment should stand alone I replied with “If he has to play Barry White to let you know he’s wooing you, then he’s doing it wrong.”

My complaint is not with Barry White, or with Marvin Gaye or with the music of R Kelly.  I do not doubt the powers of communicating seduction of any of this music.  I know there are women for whom that approach works.  The problem is I don’t want them.  I don’t want to need that music, I don’t want a woman who is only soothed and energized by music that is mellow, smooth and funky.

I wouldn’t want it to be the same every time.  I would get bored.  I want to be able to seduce with Medicine’s “Live it Down”, Black Sheep’s “The Choice is Yours”,  The National’s “Bloodbuzz Ohio”.

Jesus Crap, people!, put some effort into it.

Dance and giggle to Ice-T’s pre cop killing “Somebody’s Gotta Do It”, Scream the name “Minnie Pearl” together while singing The Dead Milkmen’s “Punk Rock Girl”.

Anything short of that feels like a mix tape in a plain white case with the words “Seduction Mix” on it in the font that used to be reserved for generic food.

I gotta jet.

Someone just put on the Marvin Gaye.