An Apology From That Guy Who Brings His Acoustic Guitar to Every Party
Because sometimes silence isn’t actually golden
Dear Distinguished Members of Every Social Gathering I’ve Ever Attended,
You’ve made your feelings clear through your collective groans, strategic bathroom breaks, and that petition titled “No More Acoustic Guitar Guy, Please God Make It Stop.” I’m the one who somehow manages to fit a full-size Taylor acoustic guitar through Juniper’s tiny apartment door every time we gather for wine and cheese night. The guy who interprets “casual dinner party” as an “impromptu concert venue.”
I hear your sighs when I start tuning up during dessert. I see your eyes roll when I say things like “This one’s an original piece inspired by the time I got trapped in a Trader Joe’s freezer section.” I notice how you all suddenly need to use the bathroom the moment I launch into my acoustic cover of “Wonderwall.”
But I think there’s been a misunderstanding here. I’m not trying to “hijack the vibe” or “make everything about me.” I’m simply providing a valuable service. You think those awkward silences between conversations are filling themselves? That’s all me, baby. I’m basically a human white noise machine, except instead of ocean sounds, you get my slightly off-key rendition of “Hallelujah.”
