So busted

Tonight I was chatting with a young woman on the phone. In the background, I had iTunes playing random music from my nearly 5500 song collection. Now, I have a lot of different kinds of music for many moods and times. I'll admit to having music I don't even know how it got on my computer.

So, conversation clicking away fine. Suddenly, she says, "Is that Kenny G?"

What? Kenny G doesn't fit in with our conversation at all. What the f... OMG She's talking about the music on the speakers. "Um... No..." My hands are flying to the keys and the mouse. Get this shit off here...

"That's Kenny G. You. Have. Kenny. G. ??"

"Uh, no.... not any...more..." There is no recovery for this. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. No one to blame because I live alone. I can't even conjure up a fictional pet whose music it might be. I'm screwed. Pinned to the wall like a Tail in that childhood Donkey Game. Kenny Freakin' G. Great. I watch my chances glide out the window like a paper airplane on the summer breeze.

"You have Kenny G?" She's not relenting. I squirm like a pitiful bug caught in a trap. Where is the zapper when you need it to provide that quick death? Oh, man...

"I didn't say I listened to it, you know I have a lot of music I'm sure how it got on my machine." This is a lame excuse, but it's the only thing my feeble mind can think of. Instead of the vision of silken naughty's, I'm stuck with a blurry vision of the frizzy haired Kenny G chortling as he sees the paper airplane glide by. Waving his little wind instrument in goodbye, then he's gone. So's the girl.

"I have to get to bed..." But, but, hey, I can play you some Teddy Pendergrass or Barry White or Isaac Hayes or or or Marvin Gaye...

Sigh.

Delete. Delete. Delete... the Kenny G songs hit the electronic trash can with an imagined booming sound as though they were hitting a construction trash bin from 12 stories up. Anyone have suggestions for music to woo the ladies? Since most of my readers are indeed ladies, I'm hoping you'll have some ideas.