Enough To Make Your Face Egg-White

(I work in the service department of a well known big box electronics store. We have recently hired a new store manager who is a extremely full of herself and cares little about the employees. She spends most of her time on her cellphone chatting with friends. The store has music, approved by corporate and piped in to all the stores. Every month or so, they rotate out all the old music and replace it with new music. The new music was just added and it is Pitbull’s Hotel Room Service… which is a bit risqué for the store.)

Me: *to new manager and vice-GM* “Isn’t this song a little dirty for us to be playing?”

New Manager: “It’s the newest hit; we always play the newest hits.”

Me: “The lyrics are:

‘Oh, you’re the healthy type.

Well, here goes some egg whites.

Now gimme that sweet, that nasty gushy stuff.’

We are going to get complaints!”

Vice General Manager: *who is an older man* “Is that what he is saying? I can’t understand rap. I thought it was a kid’s song about playing in a hotel.”

New Manager: *patronizingly to me* “It will be fine. No one will complain.”

(A few weeks later I had to do some shopping there and came in on my day off. Oldies music is playing.)

Me: *to coworker* “Hey, what’s with the golden oldies?”

Coworker: “Oh, a mother complained about the Pitbull music playing and taught [Vice-GM] what egg whites meant. He has been playing Beach Boys and the Supremes ever since.”