Circa 1986

I inherited an iPod shuffle from my daughter. I cannot believe that something so small can sound so good and hold that much music. Remember your first Sony Walkman the size of a small child?

Anyway, I took the opportunity to update my playlist and add some songs I heard on the radio recently. One of them was REM's It's The End of The World. I do love me some REM. And I don't understand the words to that song any more than I did when I saw them at a concert in college.

REM played at a divey indie concert house in downtown Detroit when I was a sophomore at the University of Michigan. And I loved them as much then as I do now. Which is to say lots and lots. Not to mention I had a huge crush on the person who drove me to the concert. I thought we were on a date. Turns out we weren't. Oops.

Which, considering how our first true "date" went, I am not surprised.

Let me explain.

He was a busboy where I worked. He lived in the East Quad which was where all the interesting, artsy, crunchy tree huggers lived. He was wickedly smart. And cute. He caught my eye over a pile of dirty dishes. It was *like* at first sight.

He asked me to go to the movies one Friday night. I was so excited I could hardly sleep for two days. Which was very bad come Friday night. I liked to stay up late then about as much as I do now.

I was in bed at 8:30 last night.

Turns out it was a foreign film festival. The movie was in French with subtitles. I am 99% sure I fell asleep. And 97% sure I snored. Which explains why he never asked me out again.

Until the REM concert. When he told me he had an extra ticket and wondered if I wanted to go. I thought that was code for "date". Turns out he had a date. Named Linda.

And an extra ticket. For me.

Boy did I feel like an idiot.

Hindsight being 20/20, I know now it was all for the best.