When I was about 15 or so, I went on a trip to Oregon for a family church camp. My own family was not going, so I hitched a ride with a convoy who were heading south to Turner, Oregon. There were at least two vehicles that travelled together -- one with my uncle, aunt, and their 2 kids, and another with myself, an old lady named Leap Year, and my friend John.
The trip down was a long one. However, on the way back, it was just John and I on the way back. There was nothing but friendship between John and I. Ever. He was gorgeous to look at (Lord, I hope he doesn't read this) but he had been dating my friend that summer and, though he was always very kind and I adored him, he wasn't much my type.
I preferred guys who didn't like me at all. But, I digress.
On the way home, I put in a new single tape (yes, I'm a thousand years old) that I had purchased while in the states. It was More Than Words by Extreme. I was, just like a million other teens, entirely enthralled by the song. Now, you have to remember most of my musical taste was along the lines of Michael Bolton and Paula Abdul, so be kind to me.
I put the tape in and we listened. And listened. And listened. We loved it. Each of us picked a part to sing and we sung our hearts out to the beautiful harmony. Finally, we had had enough and went to take the tape out.
It was stuck.
We spent the rest of what felt like 15 hours listening to that song on repeat. We sang now and again, but for the most part we suffered because we didn't want there to be silence. When we arrived back in the city we started in, our uncle got out the tape. I put it in my suitcase and never brought it out again. I have heard the song on the radio now and again, but never quite enjoyed it the same.
The other day, while going through boxes, I found the tape.
And I threw that bastard out immediately.