Sitting at the intersection of Olive and Alameda in Burbank, windows down, the Alarm's "Spirit of 76" coming through my speakers softly. The kid next to me is blasting some noise, ruining my "oh my friend oh my friend oh my friend" moment.
I wanted to turn, glare and mumble something which matched my mood. I didn't. Instead, I turned down my stereo to hear his. Damn. What IS that? The groove was good, grabbing and pulling me in. I rolled down my back window.
"Hey," I yelled out, keeping my eye on the traffic signal. "What IS that?"
Disgust on his face, he yelled back with a hint of I-could-totally-give-you-attitude attitude. "What?"
"What is THAT?" I yelled back, nodding my head in that dancing-while-driving sort of way.
He reached to turn down the volume, pulled his car next to mine so our windows aligned. "It's the Transplants - that's the band. The song is Gangsters and Thugs."
I smiled, yelled thanks and zoomed onto Olive. Thanks kid with the pink hair in the gray car in Burbank around 6:10 p.m.
iTunes, here I come...