Dating and other bad habits.

Ahh music. The fabric of our lives. Oh wait, that’s cotton. But still, for most of us, music worms its way into the tapestry of relationships.  I can’t hear Billy Joel’s Always a Woman (ashamedly or otherwise) without thinking of one of my high school boyfriend. And speaking of high school, the sounds of Dave Matthews Band always bring me back to memories of my first boyfriend and the adventures of my sophomore year.  Bad musical taste aside, I can’t help but associate these sounds with these people and these times in my life.

But then there’s that, ahem, other kind of musical memory.  Like the time many years ago when, mid-throws, Bryan Adams Everything I Do, I Do it For You came on.  I managed to keep it together long enough for him to finish.  While I laid there, contemplating whether or not I could date a man with a love of Bryan Adams a new song came on: LeAnn Rimes Don’t Fight The Moonlight. Not kidding.  This was his chosen music to, um, get down to.

I remember telling this to a girlfriend right after it happened and she regaled me with her own bad sexual musical encounter.  It seems the one and only one night stand she’d ever had transpired with gusto.  Allow me to set the scene for you…  Strangers meet in a bar. Decide to go back to a house for a little hot tub hanky panky.  A little later on they hit the upstairs where the clothes come off and the mixed cd goes on.  And this gentleman (term used loosely) put one particular song on repeat.  Apparently it was a song that helped him get his mojo going. The song you ask? Not Barry White, no.  Nothing so smooth.  The song went something like, “I…had…the time of my life.  And I owe it all to youuuuuuuuuuuuuu.”  I’m pretty sure you know how the rest of it goes.

The best part of that story isn’t the awful soundtrack to a mediocre hook up.  Naw. It’s the fact that in a room in another part of the house Mr. Smooth’s roommate was also getting busy with a girl. And the two of them could be heard laughing, cackles echoing throughout the house…  Ouch.

It’s been a while since I purposely brought music into the bedroom, but there are times when the moment overtakes you and you’re on the couch, in a car, outside, whatever.  You can’t exactly control the ambiance there. And this we all understand. So, we all know what songs we might put on a list of “good” songs to get jiggy to.  But be careful, because your good might be another person’s awful…

So c’mon, we’re all friends here. What’s the worst song you’ve ever had sex to?