Back in the days when I failed out of Duke and went from decorated National Merit Scholar who only went to Duke because he never did any work from 6th grade on to vest-wearing seller of 'As Seen On TV' products (I don't care what you think, that's a pretty steep fall), I knew a devastatingly cute blond girl who worked at the FYE a floor above me. This girl was sweet, funny, and had shockingly good taste in rap. Keep in mind that this was a shit mall on the rural frontier of the Philly suburbs, right around the point where it becomes okay for School Board members to make flamingly bigoted remarks about Jews and blacks and still hold onto their office (North Penn School District, Linda I Forget Her Last Name, for any of you from the area). (The funny thing about where I'm from is that it is this incredibly affluent and expansive place with all sorts of little subtle gradations of class, but if you go the right direction you really only need to drive 30 minutes (fast) from the city before your only dining options are bad diners that offer little handouts about Jesus at the door.) Anyway, this girl was just a gem. I remember when I bought Thugged Da Fuck Out, C-N-N's two-disc greatest hits compilation, and she goes, "I love them! 'Invincible' is my favorite song!" Huh? For the vast majority of white girls back in 2004, the only Noreaga point of reference was 'Nothin.' Particularly that oh-so-funny Smash Mouth line. I was shocked. I was even more shocked when for the first time in my music-buying career, I dipped a toe into Soufern rap and purchased Lyricist Lounge Presents The Dirty States Of America on the basis of an electifying B.G./Fiend/Soulja Slim collabo that I'd happen to run across on the Internets somehow or another. I'm pretty sure that the only people who own this record are myself and 8 Willie D completists. Nevertheless, when I went to the register, the girl says (I'm paraphrasing here, whatever she really said was vastly more charming), "that's the album with 'Fired Up'! What a song!" Indeed, what a song. I'd put it on a top twenty of the decade, easy. Soulja Slim was a monster. Anyway, I was too depressed at the time to even walk around the mall without taking back alleyways so as to avoid eye contact with the public, so naturally I didn't get her number. She went back to college, and here I am 5 years later in Lexington, Virginia, going out on dates with second-years I'm massively brighter than and seriously considering fucking the town's one cute waitress. Of course, uncannily good taste in music doesn't a fantastic relationship make but I do wonder sometimes.
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Hot white girls with good taste in hip-hop are definitely hard to find, without question. I have to say, however, that's it's usually no fault of their own. A lot of girls, mine included, just don't see the value of collecting music, when so many of the songs they want to hear are constantly played on the radio. My girl is down with some of Madlib's funkier tendencies, and even gets a jokey kick outta Quasimoto, but for the most part, she wants to be able to dance to it. I got her into some of the rougher dancehall and MIA, but not much else.
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