Hal and the Carob Bean Queen Incident
Hal was working on his third date with Sylvia. He was frankly surprised that things had progressed this far, necking like a couple of high school kids on her sofa while an easy rock station serenaded them on the radio. Hal rarely made it beyond two dates with any woman.
Sylvia broke the embrace to modestly adjust the rising hem of her dress. A song came over the radio that elicited an animalistic groan from Hal. He took a slug of his wine and slumped further into the sofa cushion.
“What’s wrong?”
“I hate this song,” Hal moaned. “Hate it with a purple passion.”
Sylvia stood, smiled, and swayed her narrow hips to the beat. “C’mon, let’s dance. I used to dance to this in the clubs. That was back in the day.”
Hal shook his head. The song was too painful. “It drives me nuts. The guy can’t get his words straight. He’s singing Carob-Bean-Queen, not Caribbean Queen. That used to send me into a frenzy every time it came on the radio.”
Sylvia stopped dancing and furrowed her brow. “He’s singing with an accent, Hal. Billy Ocean was born in Trinidad.”
Hal waved her off like a pesky fly. “That’s another thing. What kind of stupid made-up name is Billy Ocean?”
“You’re very easily irritated, aren’t you?”
“It’s Car-ibbe-an Queen,”Hal persisted. “Not Carob-Bean-Queen or Carob-Bin-Quinn. If you can’t enunciate the words, don’t sing the damn song!”
Sylvia never saw Hal again.
Previously: Hal and the Ghost Incident
April 27, 2008 at 8:50 pm
very funny rj. God if i could count how times that song was played in the 80’s and the video too
April 27, 2008 at 9:02 pm
Hated it!
April 27, 2008 at 9:29 pm
I played it for Lynn and she started dancing.
“Do you remember this tune?”
“Of course. It’s a good dance tune.”
“Rodger doesn’t like it.”
“Oh, it’s an awful song. But it’s a good dance tune.”
“It sounds like Billie Jean.”
“It probably does.”
“I don’t remember it.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Well, I remember the melody. But I don’t remember it being a big deal.”
Lynn, a great dancer, was still dancing. I had to open the cell and fake taking a photo to get her to stop. Probably some things that go on between couples should remain private, or at least be fictionalized.
April 27, 2008 at 11:25 pm
Very nice continuation, Joseph, with a personal flair. Thank you very much.
April 28, 2008 at 3:26 am
don’t ever remember listening to it–must be a good thing. funny piece~
April 28, 2008 at 4:43 am
Note to Hal: Forget Sylvia. You need someone like Brett Butler. She knows how to drink, and she’d adjust her hem higher, making you completely not even hear who-the-hell is singing what.
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April 28, 2008 at 10:24 am
Ah the endless debate about how to pronounce that word. Funny.
April 28, 2008 at 10:41 am
A woman like Brett Butler would eat poor Hal alive, K.
April 28, 2008 at 11:02 am
Yeah, I know.
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April 28, 2008 at 11:20 am
RJ, I like the totality of this piece; the beginning, middle, and end are tight and balanced. I get a sense that the antagonist has a deep past of vague emotion with no hope of resolution.
Billy Ocean, mas o manos; it’s somewhat shallow like Haircut 100 or Flock of Seagulls, but mostly harmless. It could be much worse like Rupert Holmes, Piña Colada, or dare I even say it, Captain and Tennelle, Muskrat Love.
April 28, 2008 at 11:34 am
Or Jimmy Buffet’s Magaritaville, Keith. There’s another one that grates.