Hot Hot Hot
There are so many reasons why I dislike this song. I hate the requisite conga-line-at-the-wedding scenario. Lyrics are just painful. Every time I hear the song, it reminds me of the Bahamas.
You would think that memories of the Bahamas would be delightful. No. My one experience in the Bahamas was marred by the lovely couple in the hotel room next to ours. They were loud. Very loud. Well, actually, he was louder than she. It turned out that he was a very sick man who vomited continuously. You know how I am about vomiting!
So the soundtrack for our Bahamas stay was “Hot Hot Hot” every night and Vomit Man next door. In fact, as we stood in line at the airport to check our luggage, I thought I could hear him vomiting. Was it subliminal? The tune “Hot Hot Hot” came into my head as I tried to block out the sound of vomiting.
We finally boarded the plane and I breathed a sigh of relief. As we made our way toward our seats, I looked up the aisle and there they were! I reflexively started gagging again. Luckily, the stewardess realized the man was sick and removed them from the plane before takeoff!
Sadly, when we landed in Philadelphia, my sister greeted us with the news that my mother was in the hospital. That week didn’t end well. I can never listen to “Hot Hot Hot” and conga.