(I get a phone call from one of my son’s teachers.)

Me: “Hello?”

Teacher: “Mrs. [My Surname], I’m afraid you will not take particular liking to this call, but your son has been caught doing something most unacceptable in the school environment.”

Me: “Oh no. What has he done?”

Teacher: “He’s been listening to music!”

Me: “In his lessons?”

Teacher: “No.”

Me: “I don’t see what the problem is. He’s allowed to listen to music outside of lessons.”

Teacher: “Do you have any idea what he listens to?”

Me: “A bit of everything, from what I can gather going past his bedroom every night.”

Teacher: “A band called Slip… knot.”

Me: “Okay. I still don’t see an issue.”

Teacher: “You don’t?! Do you know what’s in their lyrics?”

Me: “Of course I do. We listen to their albums on long drives.”

Teacher: “OH, MY GOD!” *hangs up*

(Slightly shocked and disgruntled, I decided to call the school back. While talking to the receptionist, I could hear the teacher wailing in the background about how our family was “tainting the school.” I was more than upset by the teacher’s attitude, but the receptionist assured me my son would not suffer any consequences from the teacher’s inclination toward his music.)

(I am working the information desk at our library when a woman in her mid-20s comes up to me.)

Patron: “Hi. I found a song on YouTube called The Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven, and I wanted to know if you had it on CD?”

Me: “Well, certainly, just—”

Patron: “But it has to be the original. All the CDs I’ve found only have cover numbers. You see, I’m a piano teacher, and I want to show it to the kids.”

Me: “There is no ‘original’ Moonlight Sonata.”

Patron: “Why not?”

Me: “Well, he was from the 1700s.”

Patron: “But why isn’t there an original?”

Me: “Because… you couldn’t record back then?”

Patron: “I know, but I thought maybe you had it on CD?”

Me: “I can assure you, there does not exist an ‘original’ Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven, anywhere.”

Patron: “But I found it on YouTube!”

(I ended up having her show me the song on YouTube and showing her the name of the artist playing it. She still didn’t look convinced.)

(I’m at a relative’s 60th birthday party and they are playing 60s-80s music. The Monkees’ “I’m a Believer” comes on, and a little girl near me gets really excited.)

Little Girl: “I know that song!”

(My husband and I look at each other, thinking this girl knows one of the “classics”.)

Little Girl: “It’s from Shrek!”

You Can “(My friend is the manager of a hotel in our town, and is also the DJ. The restaurant is having an eighties theme night, and he plays the music from that era. Past midnight, a quite-drunk man comes to him and makes demands.)

Customer: “You need to play something better! Play some new stuff!”

DJ: *jokingly* “Sorry, sir, but tonight is the night of the dinosaurs.”

Customer: *upset* “But I want some good music!”

(Again my friend shakes his head. The drunk man raises his voice and shouts:)

Customer: “If you don’t play the music I want to hear, right now, you will be very sorry. I know the manager of this place! I will call him and have you fired!”

DJ: *with a smile* “Really?”

Customer: “Yes! Will you play something better, now?”

DJ: “It is still a no!”

(The customer goes away, cursing. The DJ tells me later:)

DJ: “I really wish he would have gotten my number and called me right there. It would have been nice to see his face when I picked up my phone and looked him in the face and said, ‘Hello?’”

(I work at a farm store, so naturally the piped-in music is country. I’m not a country fan in the least, but I tolerate it. I am working at the information desk when a female customer, I would guess in her 60s, approaches me.)

Me: “Hi there! How are you doing today? Anything I can help you find?”

Customer: “Hi! You know, I hate to be that person, but I just wanted to let you know I don’t agree with your choice of music for this store.”

Me: “Oh. Well, I’m sorry about that. We actually don’t get to pick the radio station. To be 100% forthcoming, it isn’t a station per se, but a satellite channel. It’s locked-in so we can’t change it.”

Customer: “Mmm… That’s very unfortunate. I wouldn’t think a family-oriented store would want to condone messages of drinking, adultery, drugs, and an anti-Christian lifestyle.”

Me: *rolling eyes internally* “I’m sorry the music offends you, ma’am. I wish there was something I could do about it.”

Customer: “Maybe there is something you can do. I’d like to speak to your manager.”

Me: “Actually, that would be me! I’m not the store manager, but I’m the manager on duty.”

Customer: *look of disappointment* “Oh, I see. When will the store manager be in?”

Me: “Here’s the thing, ma’am: the store manager doesn’t get to choose the music type, either. We have 60-plus stores all over the midwest, and all are tuned-in to country. I guess they figure since we’re a farm store, we should always have country music.”

Customer: “Are you serious? You have little children in your stores, and you’re playing songs about getting high on drugs, being drunk, drunk driving, and other reckless behavior!”

Me: “Again, I’m sorry, ma’am; there just isn’t anything I can do about it. I understand where you’re coming from, however. This type of music isn’t my favorite, either.”

Customer: *suddenly perking up and smiling* “Oh, really? You seem like a nice, clean-cut young man. What kind of music do you like?”

Me: *coming to the full realization of the corner I’ve painted myself into* “Oh! Me? Um… You see… I… uh… Death metal.”

Customer: “…”