Your Body Is A Wonderland
You'll all be relieved to know that this song isn't tied to some sappy love memory. More like a goofy Friends episode wrapped up in a neat and trope-y bow.
Let's call it, "The One Where Jill Gets Serenaded With John Mayer."
This guy (his name was Tim or Todd or Ted) takes me to what I thought was a salsa dance club for our first date. It was more like a senior citizen club—a nondescript ballroom studio in a strip mall that catered to the 55+ demographic. Thankfully we didn't stay long.
We decided to go to TimToddTed's place and hang out. For a couple of frat guys, the house was gorgeous and clean and I expected parents to come home at any time.
His roommates were playing beer pong in the dining room and called TimToddTed either "Lamb Bone" or "Ham Bone" and did some bruh high-fiving.
TimToddTed and I went to his room and from what I could tell from his luxury suburban suite, he was at the top of the bruh food chain.
We made small talk for about 15 minutes and I just knew in the back of my mind I wasn't really into him.
"Oh, you play guitar?" I asked, pretending to be polite and interested.
I can't remember whether the guitar or dimmed bedroom lights came first. It doesn't matter, because the next thing I know, TimToddTed is crooning, "Your Body Is A Wonderland."
WHAT IS HAPPENING.
Sometimes he would stop and restart a verse or just play the guitar without singing, like he wasn't totally sure of all the lyrics. Sometimes he made the same cringeworthy facial expressions as Mayer.
As he wraps up the song, he leans in for a kiss and the next thing I know, I'm politely making out with him (WHAT?), still reeling.
A minute or two later I get my bearings and pull away. I mumble something about having to pick up my roommate from a party or getting up early. Awkwardly, I leave.
Acoustic jams were probably a classic Hail Mary play, but for me, total anti-ladywood. Nice try, TimToddTed.