A Cultural Exchange

“Who are you listening too?”

“Tool. You?”


“She sounds like that?”

“What’s the next song you have?”


“What’s that?”

“Like when you’re so mad you begin drooling at the mouth.”

“That doesn’t sound good. I’m going to stick with Beyonce.”

“Rock isn’t very cute. Does Beyonce always sound like this?”


“Ever get tired of it?”

“No. You ever get tired of being angry?”

“Not really.”

“What’s the next song you have?”

“Five Finger Death Punch.”

“So. There’s no…no one like Beyonce?”

“Maybe like…Paramore? Flyleaf. Oh. Kittie.”

“That sounds nice. Play Kittie.”

“No. I probably shouldn’t keep listening to Beyonce. You know what, I’m going to put away my metal music and we can both listen to Beyonce.”

“You would do that?”

“Yeah. Sure. Beyonce, hurry up though.”


Then, she made me do a hip hop dance. Hahaha. Her dreadlocks nearly sit at her knees. She’s really pretty. I felt so silly dancing that I enjoyed it. She appreciated my efforts. Then, I went to back to listening to metal music and she listened to Beyonce.