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Disco King

After the longest time, I finally manage to get myself a car stereo. The radio that came with it was hardly any use. While radio is sufficient in Singapore, driving long distance in the US is an ordeal when all you have in the car is the sound of snores from all your passengers. The radio frequencies don't cover much of the long, empty stretches of road one has to cover to get to the next inhabited place.
It wasn't all smooth. When I bought an open box model of the Aiwa MP3 car stereo, it wouldn't play MP3s and I had to go back to Best Buy to change it. As I wasn't sure whether it was the format of the CD-RW or the player itself I brought my disc down to the store.
Baaad mistake. While I'm all in support of being oneself and celebrating individuality, having the whole store listen as ABBA (yes you read right) songs were played at maximum volume. Just my luck. ABBA was alphabetically number one. You could imagine my embarassment as the salesperson turned up the volume. I stood there with my head down hoping no one would recognise me. I was half expecting psychedelic strobe lights and a disco ball to fall from the ceiling. I might have been able to make a quick getaway had that happened.
Ok, I admit it. I like ABBA. I'm a product of my parents' musical tastes. At least when they liked it it was considered in. Now it's just queer. I'll admit my preferences, but call me a dancing queen and I promise I'll deck you.
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