I have a delightful habit (although I doubt my friends would choose that adjective) of hearing song lyrics everywhere I go. You can say pretty much anything to me and I will probably, without meaning to, recall a song that has some or all of the words just said in it.
Sometimes, I will burst into song at that moment. I can usually contain it, unless I’m with a friend who understands my idiosyncracies and accepts me for them.
But I can’t always contain it. Or sometimes when I do, the song plays on in my head and I lose track of the conversation. What did I tell you? A delightful habit!
Yesterday, I was walking to the kitchen when Cameron said, “Stop!” (as I was about to walk through a recently swept pile of plaster). Instead of stopping, I started singing, “Stop! In the name of love,” and promptly walked plaster dust through the house.
It doesn’t even have to be the actual lyrics. I ordered something from a bakery this morning, and the person serving me asked if I’d like a sausage roll (apparently, sausage rolls are the new fries in the world of upselling). What instantly jumped into my head? “It’s a long way to the shop if you want a sausage roll.”
But the most embarrassing instance (so far, at least) was in early 2010. I was the token communications specialist (singular) on a top secret project with lawyers, strategists, actuaries and executives (all plural). I was having a difficult time being taken seriously, and was trying my hardest to impress upon everyone the importance of having communcations that didn’t over-explain things in a patronising way, but also didn’t mollycoddle our members.
We were in a meeting, and I was saying that a particular letter someone had drafted for a member was a little inflammatory. One of the legal reps turned to me and said, “We have to cover ourselves. Can you honestly put your hand on your heart and…”
Already seen where this is going? I immediately did just that, putting my hand on my heart and singing, “Put your hand on your heart and tell me, it’s all over…”.
Cue deafening silence. My bright red face. Then titters of laughter from a few. Then more. Then uproarious laughter. Phew.
I might have gotten away with it, but it was definitely back to square one when it came to being taken seriously!
I was searching to see if someone besides myself does this. I do it all the time, not on purpose but I kinda like it. I wonder if there’s a name for this.